'What did he write?' Alice asked.
Roger sighed. 'Who'd have thought it? Father? The most self-contented man I ever knew.' He held out the paper. The most determined man I ever knew. He had written a recommendation that Johnnie be retried, because of prejudice on the part of one of the magistrates, himself. He wrote that, and then he shot himself.'
Alice sat down. 'Perhaps none of us knew him well enough,' she said.
Meg just stood there, stared at her mother, as she came back down the stairs. 'You loved him, Ma. More'n you ever loved Pa.'
'Aye,' Emma said. 'I loved him. God, how I loved him. If I'd not been proud two years ago . . .' She gazed at Roger. 'What will you do? You are squire of Derleth now.'
'Do?' Roger looked at the stairs. His father, a suicide. The world would not forget or forgive. But did the world matter? Father had been Haggard; there was sufficient. As he was now Haggard. He walked to the windows, looked out at the drive and the people gathered on the road beyond. They had come to hate the squire, just as only a few days before they had gathered to support him. But he was the squire now. They would depend on him for their livelihood and their guidance. It
was his business to decide their future. By giving them more freedom, as Byron would have it? By thinking of it, at the least. 'You'll not let Johnnie hang,' Alice said.
'No. But he'll not stay here. He'll not stay in England. He committed a crime, Alice.'
Transportation? He'd not stand that.' Her voice rose. 'You may as well hang him.'
'Not transportation. I shall drop the charges against him. But he'll go to Barbados. And for the rest of his life.' 'And Harry?' Emma asked.
Roger Haggard turned back from the window.
‘I
said I'd drop all charges, Emma.'
Emma hesitated, then dried her cheeks. 'Aye, well . . .' She glanced at her daughter. 'We'd best see if we can find them.'
'Do you
want
to find them?' Roger asked.
Emma bit her lip.
'You'll stay here.' Roger said. 'For as long as you wish.' He walked across, took Meg's hands. 'For ever. Here is where you belong.' 'But you'll stay as well?' Meg asked.
Haggard looked down at his uniform. 'Aye. They'll give me a discharge." He squeezed her hand, kissed her on the forehead. 'I must go and talk to those people. My people.'
The
end