There is Mr. Dunn, and--"

"Oh, I don't know," said her brother bitterly, "he wants to believe it."

"Yes, and there is Mr. Martin," she continued, "and--Oh, I forgot! here
is a letter Mr. Martin brought you."

"Martin?"

"Yes, your Martin, a strange little man; your quarter-back, you know. He
brought this, and he says it is good news." But already Allan was into
his letter. As he read his face grew white, his hand began to shake, his
eyes to stare as if they would devour the very paper. The second time he
read the letter his whole body trembled, and his breath came in gasps,
as if he were in a physical struggle. Then lifting arms and voice
towards the sky, he cried in a long, low wail, "Oh God, it is good, it
is good!"

With that he laid himself down prone upon the mound again, his face in
the grass, sobbing brokenly, "Oh, mother, mother dear, I have got you
once more; I have got you once more!"

His sister stood, her hands clasped upon her heart--a manner she
had--her tears, unnoted, flowing down her cheeks, waiting till her
brother should let her into his joy, as she had waited for entrance into
his grief. His griefs and his joys were hers, and though he still
held her a mere child, it was with a woman's self-forgetting love she
ministered to him, gladly accepting whatever confidence he would give,
but content to wait until he should give more. So she stood waiting,
with her tears flowing quietly, and her face alight with wonder and joy
for him. But as her brother's sobbing continued, this terrible display
of emotion amazed her, startled her, for since their mother's death none
of them had seen Allan weep. At length he raised himself from the ground
and stood beside her.

"Oh, Moira, lassie, I never knew how terrible it was till now. I had
lost everything, my friends, you, and," he added in a low voice, "my
mother. This cursed thing shut me out from all; it got between me and
all I ever loved. I have not for these months been able to see her face
clear, but do you know, Moira," here his voice fell and the mystic light
grew in his eyes, "I saw her again just now as clear as clear, and
I know I have got her again; and you, too, Moira, darling," here he
gathered his sister to him, "and the people! and the Glen! Oh! is it not
terrible what a crime can do? How it separates you from your folk, and
from all the world, for, mind you, I have felt myself a criminal; but I
am not! I am not!" His voice rose into an exul