A Monk of Cruta

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

The priest shook his head. "I have nothing to tell you," he said in a low tone.

"You mean that you will not tell me."

The priest inclined his head. Paul turned upon him fiercely, "He was my father's murderer," he cried.

"It may be so. But remember that nothing is known! Remember, too, that your father's last wish was to keep secret the manner of his death!"

Paul seemed scarcely to have heard him. He was walking restlessly up and down the apartment. Presently he stopped in front of Father Adrian's chair.

"You have told me what happened to my father on the island," he said; "now tell me the story of his life, which you say that he confided to you. I must know what took him there."

CHAPTER XXIV

"THE SHATTERED VASE OF LOVE'S MOST HOLY VOWS"

Paul had not thought of ringing for lights, and, save around the fireplace, the room was wrapped in solemn darkness. Father Adrian's chair had been amongst the shadows, and Paul had seen nothing save his outline since they had entered the room. But now, his curiosity stirred by the sudden silence of the priest, he caught up the poker, and broke the burning log in the grate, so that the flames threw a quick light on his face.