When I came back I saw he had something to
say. But before he had spoken I laid my hand on his shoulder and looked
at him with a significant smile. He slowly bent his head and dropped his
eyes, with a mixture of assent and humility. I drew forth from where it
had lain untouched for a month the letter he had given me to keep, placed
it silently on his knee, and left him to deal with it alone.
Half an hour later I returned to the same place, but he had gone, and one
of the sacristans, hovering about and seeing me looking for Pickering,
said he thought he had left the church. I found him in his gloomy
chamber at the inn, pacing slowly up and down. I should doubtless have
been at a loss to say just what effect I expected the letter from Smyrna
to produce; but his actual aspect surprised me. He was flushed, excited,
a trifle irritated.
"Evidently," I said, "you have read your letter."
"It is proper I should tell you what is in it," he answered. "When I
gave it to you a month ago, I did my friends injustice."
"You called it a 'summons,' I remember."
"I was a great fool! It's a release!"
"From your engagement?"
"From everything! The letter, of course, is from Mr. Vernor. He desires
to let me know at the earliest moment that his daughter, informed for the
first time a week before of what had been expected of her, positively
refuses to be bound by the contract or to assent to my being bound.
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