d you read it to us
immediately."

The parson, bowing with respect, cleared his throat and began, premising
that Governor Wentworth's commands had been his own intention from the
first.

"It is a confession," he said, "made by one whom many of us have
welcomed to our homes as a gentleman of blameless character and
honorable dealing. Why it was sent to Mistress Royal instead of to
Master Archdale, or the bride, I am at a loss to understand."

Elizabeth raised her head with a flash in her eyes, but anger died away
into despair, and she stood silent with the others, and listened to the
fate that fell upon her with those monotonous tones, each one heavy as
lead upon her heart. She wondered if it had been sent to her because it
had been feared that Stephen Archdale would keep silence.

CHAPTER VII.

CONFESSION.

"I write without knowing to whom I am writing," began the paper, "except
that among the readers must be some whom I have wronged. I can scarcely
crave forgiveness of them, because they will surely not grant it to me.
I don't know even that I can crave it of Heaven, for I have played with
sacred things, and used a power given me for good, in an evil way, to
further my own devices, and, after all, I have not furthered them. I am
a man loving and unloved, one who has perhaps thrown away his soul on
the chance of winning earthly joy,--but such joy,--and has lost it. If
any have ever done like me, let them pity and pardon. I appeal to them
for compassion. I shall receive it nowhere else, unless it be possible,
that the one for love of whom I have done the wrong will out of the
kindness of her heart spare me by and by a thought of pity for what was
the suggestion of a moment and acted on--"

"Skip all that maundering," interrupted Stephen. "To the point. Who is
this man, and what has he done? Let him keep his feelings to himself, or
if they concern you, they don't us."

"No, no, Stephen. Fair play," called out Governor Wentworth. "Let us
hear every word, then we can judge better of the case, and of the
writer's truthfulness."

"Yes, you are right," answered the young man pressing Katie's arm more
firmly in his own to give silent vent to his impatience and his
defiance.

"And acted on without premeditation," resumed Master Shurtleff. "I left
England early in the spring, and coming to this worthy city of
Portsmouth with letters of introduction to Master Archdale, and others,
I met the beautiful Mistress