I send thee my key. Please deliver the red, tall
clock to Betsy Hale, who lives on the road to Waterbury Hill, and
kindly take that cheerful youngster from Connecticut--the one with
the walnut case and a brass pendulum--to Mrs. Henry Watson. You
remember that ill-tempered Dutch thing, with a loud gong and a
white dial, please take that to Harry Warner, I put some work on
them all but there's no charge. The other clocks belong to me. Do
with them as thou wilt and with all that is mine. The rent is paid
to April. Then kindly surrender the key. Now can ye do all this
for a man suffering the just punishment of many sins? I ask it for
old friendship and to increase the charity I saw growing in thy
heart long ago. At last I have word of thy father. He died a
peaceful, happy death, having restored the wealth that cursed him
to its owner. For his sake an' thine I am glad to know it. Now
between thee and the dear Polly there is no shadow. Tell her
everything. May the good God bless and keep thee; but the long
road of Happiness, that ye must seek and find.
"Yours truly,
"R. DARREL of the Blessed Isles."
Trove read the letter many times, and, as he grew strong, he began
to think with clearness and deliberation of his last night in
Hillsborough.
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