There! weep not, wring not your hands, but think, think with your heart
and soul.'
'Was he innocent, mother? If he was, I, sure had been told,
'He said so.' 'Ah, but they do.' 'And I hope--and long was his dole,
And all for the signing a name (if indeed he signed) for gold.'


VIII.

'To find us again, in the far far West, where hid, we were free--
But if he was innocent--O my heart, it is riven in two,
If he goes how hard upon him--or stays--how harder on me,
For O my Ronald, my Ronald, my dear,--my best what of you!'


IX.

'Peace; think, my Laura--I say he will go there, weep not so sore.
And the time is come, Ronald knows nothing, your father will go,
As the shadow fades from its place will he, and be seen no more.'
'There 'll be time to think to-morrow, and after, but to-day, no.


X.

I'm going down the garden, mother.' 'Laura!' 'I've dried my tears.'
'O how will this end!' 'I know not the end, I can but begin.'
'But what will you say?' 'Not "welcome, father," though long were those
years,