"Tarbolt!" murmured the Master, just audibly and no more. "If it had been anyone but Tarbolt!"
There was another silence, broken only by one slow sob.
"For either he will hate the one and love the other; or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. . . Simeon, which was I?"
Mr. Simeon forced himself to look up. Tears were in his eyes, but they shone.
"Master, can you doubt?"
"I am sorry to appear brutal," said Master Blanchminster, coldly and wearily, "but my experiences to-day have been somewhat trying for an old man. May I ask if, on taking your resolution to confess, you came straight to me; or if, receiving just dismissal from my service, you yet hold Canon Tarbolt in reserve?"
Mr. Simeon stood up.
"I have behaved so badly to you, sir, that you have a right to ask it. But as a fact I went to Canon Tarbolt first, and said I could no longer work for him."
"Sit down, please.… How many children have you, Mr. Simeon?"
"Seven, sir.… The seventh arrived a fortnight ago—yesterday fortnight, to be precise. A fine boy, I am happy to say."