“I do, sir, and I think the proofs I shall give you will satisfy you. You will understand, sir, please, before I do so, that I have no desire whatever to make any claim upon you; I simply wished to be recognized as a member of your family.”
The old man looked him up and down, and then motioned him to take a seat.
“And what has become of your father, supposing him to be your father?” he asked with an evident effort.
“He died, sir, nearly twenty years ago.”
The old man was silent for some little time, and then he said: “And you, sir, what have you been doing since then? But first, in what circumstances did he die?”
“In the very poorest. For the last two years of his life he earned his living and mine as a wandering fiddler.”
“And what became of you?”
“I was brought up, sir, by a fisherman in the village in Yorkshire in which my father died.”
“Your manner of speech does not at all agree with that, sir,” the old man said sharply.
“No, sir,” Will said quietly. “I had the good fortune to attract the interest of the clergyman’s daughter, and she was good enough to assist me in my education and urge me on to study.”