y, this is James Seaton--our gardener--a
ticket-of-leave man."

CHAPTER LI.

AT this fearful insult Helen drew back from her father with a cry of
dismay, and then moved toward Hazel with her hands extended, as if to
guard him from another blow, and at the same time deprecate his
resentment. But then she saw his dejected attitude; and she stood
confounded, looking from one to the other.

"I knew him in a moment by his beard," said the general coolly.

"Ah!" cried Helen, and stood transfixed. She glared at Hazel and his
beard with dilating eyes, and began to tremble.

Then she crept back to her father and held him tight; but still looked
over her shoulder at Hazel with dilating eyes and paling cheek.

As for Hazel, his deportment all this time went far toward convicting
him; he leaned against the side of the cave and hung his head in silence,
and his face was ashy pale. When General Rolleston saw his deep distress,
and the sudden terror and repugnance the revelation seemed to create in
his daughter's mind, he felt sorry he had gone so far, and said: "Well,
well; it is not for me to judge you harshly; for you have laid me under a
deep obligation. And, after all, I can see good reasons why you should
conceal your name from other people. But you ought to have told my
daughter the truth."

Helen interrupted him; or, rather, she seemed unconscious he was
speaking. She had never for an instant taken her eye off the culprit. And
now she spoke to him.

"Who, and what are you, sir?"

"My name is Robert Penfold."

"Penfold! Seaton!" cried Helen. "Alias upon alias!" And she turned to her
father in despair. Then to Hazel again. "Are you what papa says?"

"I am."

"Oh, papa! papa!" cried Helen, "then there is no truth nor honesty in all
the world!" And she turned her back on Robert Penfold, and cried and
sobbed upon her father's breast.

Oh, the amazement and anguish of that hour! The pure affection and
reverence that would have blessed a worthy man, wasted on a convict! Her
heart's best treasures flung on a dunghill! This is a woman's greatest
loss on earth. And Helen sank, and sobbed under it.

General Rolleston, whose own heart was fortified, took a shallow view of
the situation; and, moreover, Helen's face was hidden on his bosom; and
what he saw was Hazel's manly and intelligent countenance pale and
dragged with agony and shame.

"Come, come," he said, gently, "don't cry about it; it is not your fault.
And