Then, at my request, they went on with their story, which I had interrupted.
When it was at length all poured out, and the last drops shaken from the memory of each, there fell a long silence, which my own uncle broke.
“When shall we start, Ed?” he said.
“To-morrow, Ed.”
“This business of John's must come first, Ed!”
“It shall, Ed!”
“You know where you were born, John?”
“On my father's estate of Rubworth in Gloucestershire, I believe” answered John.
“You must be prepared for the worst, you know!”
“I am prepared. As Orba told me once, God is my father, whoever my mother may be!”