Mr. Ravenor turned from me with a shudder.
“We must do nothing of the sort.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
I ACCEPT A MISSION.
There was a silence which threatened to last for ever.
At length Mr. Ravenor turned his head slightly and looked towards me. The eagerness which he saw in my face seemed to strike some grim vein of humour in him, for his lips parted a dreary, fleeting smile.
“Are you expecting to hear a confession?” he asked, as it passed away.
A confession from him! God forbid! From him who had ever seemed to me so far above other men, that none other were worthy to be classed with him! All the old fire of my boyish hero-worship blazed up at the very thought. A confession from him! The bare idea was sacrilegious.
He read his answer in the mute, amazed protest of my looks, and did not wait for the words which were trembling upon my lips.
“It would do you little good to tell you all that your story has suggested to me,” he said quietly. “Some day you will know everything; but not yet—not yet.”
He paused and walked slowly up and down the room, with his hands behind him and his eyes fixed upon the floor. Suddenly he stopped and looked up.