“Well, if such be the case, you are the son of my son—​you have my blood in your veins—​you are a felon.”

“That has yet to be proved.”

“I hope it never will be, for both our sakes.”

“I hope not.”

“Ah, but this is indeed terrible; I know not how to act.”

“Let me go!”

“I cannot do that. Do you think you will be able to prove your innocence when the magisterial inquiry takes place?”

“You ask me a plain question?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And require a plain answer?”