Richard looked at him, but said nothing: he was in some sort fascinated by the old man's gaze.
“Suppose now,” said sir Wilton, “I were to tell you I would do whatever you asked me so far as it was in my power—what would you say?”
“That I would ask you for nothing,” answered Richard.
“I make the promise; I say solemnly that I will give you whatever you ask of me—provided I can do it honestly,” said the baronet.
“What a damned fool I am!” he thought with himself. “The devil is in me to let the fellow walk over me like this! But I must know what it all means! I shall find some way out of it!”
For one moment the books around him seemed to Richard to rush upon his brain like troops to the assault of a citadel; but the next he said—
“I can ask you for nothing whatever, sir; but I thank you from my heart for my poor friends, your children. Believe me I am grateful.”
With a lingering look at his father, he left the room.