eaten them all, then?"

He did not know what was in her mind, but he thought it best to humour
her. "Yes, mother, I've beaten them all."

"I knew you would. When I left Manchester yesterday I knew you'd beat
them. Why, to think of you, my Paul, doing such a thing! And that
crowd I heard shouting, Paul? They came to meet you at the station,
didn't they?"

"I believe hundreds of them came from Manchester," was the reply.
"Then, of course, there were many at the station, too."

"That's well, my son!"

"Mother, what is it?" cried Paul, noting the change that passed over
her face.

"I'm not so well, my laddie, and I'm not so strong as I thought I was.
But it's all right. I think I'll lie down again."

He lifted her in his arms and placed her back in the bed, and in a few
seconds she was asleep.

The crowds departed after a while, but there was little work done in
Brunford that day. Never was such an excitement known before, never
such joy manifested. Directly the news had become known that the real
murderer had confessed, the news flashed over many wires and the Press
of the whole country was flooded with the wonderful story. Throughout
Lancashire it passed, from town to town, from mill to mill, from
cottage to cottage, like wild-fire. People who had been certain of
Paul's guilt the day before had known all along that he was innocent,
and pretended to rejoice accordingly. No sooner did the news reach
Brunford than all the mills in the town ceased running. The streets
were filled with excited multitudes, talking over what had taken place.
Paul Stepaside, for whom the scaffold had been erected and the cord
made ready, had been proved innocent at the last moment, and stood
before the world a free man! It would be impossible for me to describe
in detail the rejoicings of the people or the demonstrations that were
made. Even to this day the people in Brunford talk about it as a
red-letter day in the history of the town, as a time when it was moved
beyond all thought or imagination.

Meanwhile, Paul sat with Mary in his own house. The past weeks seemed
like a hideous nightmare to him now. But he had awakened from his
sleep, the dark clouds had rolled away. He was home again! The crime
of which he had been accused was as nothing. His innocence had been
proclaimed to the world. His name was without a stain. But he felt
strangely restrained. It seemed as though a weight were put upon his
lips, and