to procure a pardon for George Granger. It came within
a few days after the application was made, and the young man was taken
from the asylum where he had been for three years.

Mr. Dinneford went to him with Freeling's affidavit and the pardon, and
placing them in his hands, watched him closely to see the effect they
would produce. He found him greatly changed in appearance, looking older
by many years. His manner was quiet, as that of one who had learned
submission after long suffering. But his eyes were clear and steady, and
without sign of mental aberration. He read Freeling's affidavit first,
folded it in an absent kind of way, as if he were dreaming, reopened and
read it through again. Then Mr. Dinneford saw a strong shiver pass over
him; he became pale and slightly convulsed. His face sunk in his hands,
and he sat for a while struggling with emotions that he found it almost
impossible to hold back.

When he looked up, the wild struggle was over.

"It is too late," he said.

"No, George, it is never too late," replied Mr. Dinneford. "You have
suffered a cruel wrong, but in the future there are for you, I doubt
not, many compensations."

He shook his head in a dreary way, murmuring,

"I have lost too much."

"Nothing that may not be restored. And in all you have not lost a good
conscience."

"No, thank God!" answered the young man, with a sudden flush in his
face. "But for that anchor to my soul, I should have long ago drifted
out to sea a helpless wreck. No thank God! I have not lost a good
conscience."

"You have not yet read the other paper," said Mr. Dinneford. "It is your
pardon."

"Pardon!" An indignant flash came into Granger's eyes. "Oh, sir, that
hurts too deeply. Pardon! I am not a criminal."

"Falsely so regarded in the eyes of the law, but now proved to be
innocent, and so expressed by the governor. It is not a pardon in any
sense of remission, but a declaration of innocence and sorrow for the
undeserved wrongs you have suffered."

"It is well," he answered, gloomily--"the best that can be done; and I
should be thankful."

"You cannot be more deeply thankful than I am, George." Mr. Dinneford
spoke with much feeling. "Let us bury this dreadful past out of our
sight, and trust in God for a better future. You are free again, and
your innocence shall, so far as I have power to do it, be made as clear
as noonday. You are at liberty to depart from here at once. Will you go
with me now?"