"I never doubted ye," the old man muttered. "I knew you'd come."
David, suddenly stifled, threw open the cottage window. When he came back into the little circle of lamp-light, his face was pale and set. He was filled with a premonition of evil.
"I want you to listen to me, uncle," he said earnestly. "I have something to say."
"Something to say?" the old man repeated. "Another time, my boy—-another time. To-night you have work to do," he added, with a fierce flash of triumph in his eyes.
"Work?"
"Aye!—to keep your oath."
"But to-night? What can I do to-night?" David exclaimed. "No, don't tell me," he went on quickly. "I'll have my say first."
"Get on with it, then. There's time. I'm listening."
"I have forgotten nothing," David began, "I am denying nothing. I remember even the words of the oath I swore."
"With your hand upon the Bible," Vont interrupted eagerly,—"your hand upon the Book."