"I presume," disdainfully, "I should feel flattered in being trusted by—" She did not finish the sentence.
But the young man apparently had not heard. "I'll take the chance on your own words," he added unexpectedly.
"My words?"
"That you are no telltale."
The girl started. "Telltale?" she repeated.
"You once told me you were not!"
"I—told you!" She stared at him.
"Told me you were no telltale," he repeated. "And—when Beppo lied, you told the truth—about a ragged vagabond of a boy."
"Beppo!" The look in her eyes deepened; cleared. "I remember now," she said slowly. "You were the boy with the fish, who said he lived in the woods. I met you while riding, and again that night, as a child, leaving for Paris; but I did not know, then, you would become—"
The young man's face changed. "An outlaw!" he said coolly.