Among those who had crowded round John Brancker in order to congratulate him the moment he was a free man was neither Mr. Edward Hazeldine nor Mr. Avison, and their absence caused him a little pang of disappointment. Edward had all along not only expressed his unflinching belief in John's innocence, but at his own cost had engaged Mr. Burgees to defend him, so that his absence on the day of the trial seemed doubly strange. John had seen Mr. Avison in court, and had looked for a word of congratulation from him when all was over, but he looked in vain. Besides, it was now Saturday evening, and he was anxious to know whether Mr. Avison would expect him to be in his place at the Bank at nine o'clock on the following Monday morning, just as if nothing had occurred to break the continuity of his service there. He was not, however, destined to be kept long in doubt on the latter point. Soon after he got home a note from Mr. Avison reached him, in which he was requested to see that gentleman in his private room at the Bank at half-past ten on Monday forenoon.

Next day was Sunday, and John stayed quietly indoors. It seemed to him the most blessed Sabbath he had ever spent. To feel that the prison walls no longer shut him in; that he was free to come and go even as other men were; to know that the foul charge which had hung over him for so long a time was at length dispelled, and that he was back once more in his dear little home with those he loved best on earth--all made up a sum of happiness which was almost oppressive in its fullness. One needs to go through some experience analogous to that of John Brancker before one learns to appraise at their real value those common blessings of everyday life which to most of us seem so much a matter of course.

Clement Hazeldine called at Nairn Cottage in the course of the afternoon. He and Mr. Kittaway were the only visitors that day. It must be recorded of the latter that he had made a prompt offer to Miss Brancker of pecuniary help in case funds should be needed to defray the cost of her brother's defence; but, as we have seen, thanks to the action of Edward Hazaldine, nothing of the kind was required.

"I thought that perhaps we should have seen Frank Derison to-day," said John to his sister, as they were on the point of sitting down to supper.

"Hem! We have not been troubled with much of Master Frank's company for some time past," replied Miss Charlotte, a little coldly.

"Indeed! How do you account for that?"

"Oh! I've nothing to do with accounting for it. I'm merely stating the fact."

"You surprise me. But perhaps there's nothing more than a little tiff at the bottom of his absence."

"If you mean as between Frank and Hermia, I must tell you that I don't think Hermy cares twopence about him in the way you imply."

John stared blankly at his sister.

"My eyes have been opened of late," went on Miss Charlotte. "Whether it's owing to trouble, or something else, I don't know, but I seem to see many things now in a different light from that which I used to see them in, and you may depend upon it, dear, that if our girl cares for anybody, it's not for Frank Derison."

"Which means that she cares for someone else. But who is there?"

"What say you to Clement Hazeldine?"

"To be sure!--though I never thought of him in that connection. But do you mean to say----?"

"I mean to say nothing, though I may have my suspicions."

"Don't you think the time has nearly come when she ought to be told?" said John, with a significant look at his sister.

"It will be a great shock to her."

"I don't doubt that, still----"

But at this moment Hermia entered the room, and for the time nothing more was said.

Frank had his reasons for not calling at the Cottage on Sunday. A few days previously his mother had said to him, in her enigmatical way:

"Whatever may be the result of Mr. Brancker's trial, I think it advisable that you should keep away from his house just at present. I have my reasons for asking this."

That was all she had said, but Frank knew that she had paid one of her periodical visits to old Mr. Avison a few days before, and he could only conclude that the interdiction--for it was little less--which had been laid upon him, had had its origin in the visit in question. It was an easy matter for him to carry out his mother's wishes.

At a few minutes past nine o'clock on Monday morning, Edward Hazeldine's dog-cart stopped at the gate of Nairn Cottage. John, who had seen it from the window, walked down through the little front garden to the gate. The hands of the two men met in a cordial grip.

"I was not well enough to see you on Saturday," said Edward, "but I had a messenger to bring me the news of the verdict the moment it was known. I felt sure of your innocence all along, and the jury by their verdict have merely given emphatic utterance to that which all right-thinking men must have been convinced of from the first. I congratulate you with all my heart!"

"I have a great deal to thank you for Mr. Edward, and I assure you that both I and my sister are fully sensible of all that we owe to yourself and your brother in this terrible business. I can conscientiously say that it was your outspoken belief in my innocence, which all through did more to uphold and strengthen me than anything else. I can never, never forget what I owe to you."

Edward sighed involuntarily. If John had but known the truth, what would he not have thought and said! After a little further conversation the two men parted, with renewed expressions of good-will.

It was with a confluence of emotions which he would have found it impossible to analyze that John Brancker left home for the Bank. The familiar streets seemed as fresh and strange to him as if his feet had not trodden their pavements for years. On his way he met more than one friend who stopped and shook hands with him, and would fain have detained him, had he not been in a hurry to keep his appointment; others there were who greeted him with a smile and a cheery "Good-morning;" while others again--such as merely knew him by sight--stared him hard in the face as they drew near, and then turned to stare again when he had passed.

On reaching the Bank he avoided the general office, and going straight to the door of Mr. Avison's room, he knocked. A sigh that was half a sob caught his breath as he passed the unforgotten door of Mr. Hazeldine's room. What had not he gone through since he set eyes on it last!

A voice, which he recognized as Mr. Avison's, bade him enter, and he went in.

The Banker was a tall chin, grizzled man, with a natural stoop of the shoulders, a high, narrow forehead, features pinched by chronic ill-health, cold and somewhat glassy-looking eyes, a long upper lip, and a hard yet querulous-looking mouth. He was an able financier, and loved his profession; and it was only in obedience to his doctor's positive orders that he had torn himself away from it even for a time. He was a man who prided himself on being strictly just in his dealings with others; but your very just men are liable to forget that there is another goddess called Mercy, who is twin-sist............