'Give me young Clyde's address. I must bring him to comfort Cecilia when she learns the truth. She was fond of that poor scapegrace, with all his faults and follies. He paid bitterly for em'—poor ne'er-do-weel!—very bitterly.'
'Bitterly, indeed,' I answered absently, looking for a way to escape from a renewed mention of Clyde's name, and finding none.
'I shall come to see you as often as they'll let me, and stay as long as I can. But now I must go for the present. Let me see—Clyde's living at your place, isn't he?'
'Yes,' I answered, 'he was living at the address from which I always dated.' 'Has he been here to-day?' Oh! It was all too bitter, and I could endure no longer. I turned my face away. My old patron laid a gentle hand upon my shoulder, and strove to turn me round. I cast myself upon the bed, and broke into tears. Gran Dio! I am not ashamed. But that outbreak cost me bodily agony, and I wept and sobbed whilst I cursed myself for weeping. Sacred Heaven! how I wrestled with this devil of weakness, which held me so strongly. When I had fought him down, he leapt upon me afresh, and subdued me by sheer torture until I let nature take her way, and cried like a woman! Then, when it was all over, I stood up and spoke with a new resolve.
'Sir, you are a just man and a wise man, and you shall know the whole truth. But first you shall swear to me that what I tell you is for ever buried in your own heart!'
He looked at me with stern inquiry.
'I am not an informer,' he said, 'and you may speak safely.'
I stepped towards him, but he waved me back, and himself took a backward step.
'There is a reason for my silence, but with you that reason dies. I have your promise, and I trust it. The man who overthrew me in the lane, whose hands and face were red with Grammont's blood, was——'
'Go on,' he said, standing there still in rough-hewn dignity, though his lips trembled and his face was pale.