'Is the little cat there still, sir?' he asked suddenly.
'He was this morning,' returned Parker—and the light in Jim's eyes grew stronger. 'By the way, Jim, here's a letter for you—came the day after you went.'
Jim read his father's ultimatum with complete apathy. It was the few words in pencil at the end, in a different hand, over a different signature, that caused him to stagger as though drunk, and to sink down on the nearest box.
Young Parker was going on with his entries, and his back was turned to Jim.
Jim read the pencilled words over and over again without grasping their meaning; yet they were simple enough. They told very shortly how the letter had been opened, what its first words revealed, how the writer would see him no more, yet forgave him, and wished him well. There was not one syllable of reproach. Jim blessed her in his heart.
In a few minutes, when he was quite calm again, he put his hand into an inner pocket, and drew out an old and dirty blue envelope, the same that Parker had handed to him in the hut
