"Because he has stolen your love from me."
"But—excuse me—it is only this moment that I have heard you were competing for it."
"He has told you evil concerning me."
"On the contrary, he has never uttered your name. It was my nurse who told me one day that you were drowned; and even this turns out to be a mistake, as you were about to prove."
"My son, your words and bearing cut me to the heart. It is no less than I have deserved, perhaps; though, could you know all, I am sure you would judge me leniently. But at least I can give you some small proof of my love. Let me first release you from those irons."
He set the lantern on the floor, drew a small key from his pocket and unlocked his son's fetters.
"Thank you. That is decidedly more agreeable," said Tristram, stretching his stiffened limbs.
"You were suffering before I came?"
"Why, truly," Tristram replied, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced around; "I find military life duller than I expected. And since this is the first night I have spent from home—"
"My poor boy! Doubtless, too, you were brooding on what would happen to-morrow morning."