"Oh!--" Frank hesitated. He could not tell Jarman the reason, and hardly knew what to say. But Jarman brought things to a point.
"Lancaster," he said, seizing the young man's hand, "I have been a good friend to you. Have you--are you--I mean, do you treat me as a man of honour should treat another?"
"Yes. I swear I have said nothing."
"Ah! you know what I speak of?"
"I do. I can hardly make a mistake when you speak to me in such a tone. Eustace, don't think so basely of me."
"Do you love Mildred?" asked Jarman, sternly.
There was a moment's silence. "Heaven help me, I do!"
"And you have--"
"No, no!" Frank's voice broke out quickly and earnestly. "I have not said a word to her. I have not even shown that I take any interest in her. I knew she was engaged to you, and that sealed my lips. I would not have come here, but that I was driven into a corner. Darrel knew me under my disguise. I fancied he might put the police on my track. If I had gone to London, or anywhere in the country as O'Neil, the police would have caught me from the description Darrel could give. And if I took off my disguise, the description in the papers would enable them to recognise me. Eustace, I swear that if a poor hunted wretch like myself had had any corner to hide in I should not have come here. But you trust me--say you trust me?"
"Yes, I do trust you," said Jarman, a little sadly. "I know you have been driven to take up this position. But we will talk no more of the matter. When you are free from trouble then we can talk. But tell me, how did Mildred receive you?"