A strange new sensation came
over me as I held it in my own rough palm. My heart beat quicker,
and I felt myself growing red in the face.
"Take the ring, Thora, and wear it for the sake of those who have
gone before;" and I slipped the glistening ring upon her finger.
"Thank you, Halcro!" she said, very softly. "Thank you! I will wear
it for my father and mother's sake, and also for yours."
"For my sake, Thora!" and I looked down into her eyes.
There was an expression in them that I had not seen there before. I
started back with a sudden recollection. Here before me I saw the
same blue eyes, the same fair hair, the same beautiful face and
rounded neck that I had seen pictured in the locket that fell from
the dead man's hand on board the Pilgrim! Here was proof added to
proof. There could no longer be any doubt in my mind that Thora was
indeed the daughter of the beautiful woman who was cast ashore at
Inganess, and whose body now lay in the old neglected graveyard
across the moor--the daughter of Thora and Ephraim Quendale.
Chapter XLI. The Last Of The Kinlays.
Thora Quendale--as I must now call my young girl friend--returned
that evening to her old home at Crua Breck. We walked together that
far over the hardened snow; and many were the questions she asked
me concerning all that I had seen and learnt of her dead father.
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