“Against me?” exclaimed Alexander, in a tone of surprise that was not without pleasure; for he instantly thought—“Oh, if he has only forged my name to a cheque or a note, or anything of the sort, it will be perfectly easy to save him. It will only be for me to take up the paper without saying anything about it; or, at worst, to acknowledge the signature.” Then, speaking softly, he said:
“Tell me everything, Everage, freely as one sinner speaking to another; for I, too, have sinned too deeply to have any sort of right to judge harshly. Speak freely, Everage.”
Still for a moment the poor gentleman remained silent, he knew that, after having told all, his bosom would feel somewhat relieved, yet he could scarcely bring himself to utter his own shame.
“I will tell you everything. And the more willingly because reparation is still in my power.”
“But, Everage, if such reparation should in any way distress you, it need not be made. Nay, if the confession itself will distress you, withhold it, my friend. If, as you say, the offense is against me, you need not tell it; and believe me, neither you nor any one else shall ever hear of it,” said Alick, kindly.
“Every gentle, generous word you speak stabs my heart like a reproach. I must tell you all. It will shame me, but it will relieve me to do so. Reparation must be made; and it will not distress but comfort me to make it; nay, it will almost do away my guilt. It is a measure that I had already resolved upon. I was only waiting for my poor wife to get over her impending accouchement before carrying it into effect; for in my poor Belle’s present critical condition, the excitement of a criminal trial would surely kill her. And thus my little girls would be bereft of both parents.”
“Everage, you talk wildly! If the offense is against me, it is already condoned. You may reveal it or not as you please. For myself, I do not see the need of your doing so.”
“That is because you do not know the nature of my crime! Lord Killcrichtoun, it was I who caused your child to be abducted!—There! kill me where I stand if you like! No one will think of blaming you,” said Everage, in a broken voice, as he tottered to his feet and stood before little Lenny’s father.
But Alexander gazed at him in amazement and incredulity for a full minute before he found ideas or words to reply. Then he exclaimed:
“Everage, you are mad to think so! What motive could you possibly have had for getting possession of my child? You who have so many of your own? I say you are mad to think it.”