"No, I do not think so; I am subject to trances; and on that night, agitated as I was by the sight of my father, I fell into one. I must have done the thing as in a dream; then passed at once into the fever which robbed me of my memory until it was revived by the dream. I can remember my childhood now, but I certainly remember nothing about the murder. My last memory is that of rushing at my father with the knife with which I afterwards killed him. It must be true; yes, I am a criminal!
"Nonsense! A boy of ten, and mad for the time being! You are not a criminal; no one could say so. If your mother had been wise, she would have told the truth so as to save herself."
"She preferred to save me; and if she had explained all this, who would have believed her? No one. She would simply have been accused of trying to prove me guilty in order to hide her own sin. But now that you know all, I want to have your advice. How am I to act?"
"Leave things as they are," Geoffrey said, promptly.
"But my mother is innocent."
"I know--if what she says is true."
"I believe it!" Neil cried. "I really believe it."
"Ah but will anyone else? To me, I confess, it seems a trifle far-fetched. Even if you came forward and accused yourself, the whole story rests on her evidence, and you will not be believed. No, Webster; leave the matter as it stands, and stick to the name you are known by. Your mother wishes it; and since she has done so much for you, it is only right you should obey her."
"I don't know what to do." Neil clasped his hands. "Shall I remain silent?"
"Take my advice, and remain silent," Heron replied, and he meant what he said. "And remember," he added, "that I am always your friend friend."