“This is our secret, sir, and you must keep your place.”
“Secret? Why shouldn’t I tell my mother and father that you were condemned for that which you did not do?”
“I’ll tell you, sir,” cried Leather. “Because they cannot listen with your ears, nor see me with your eyes.”
“My father is everything that is just,” said Nic proudly, “and my mother all that is gentle and true.”
“God bless her! yes, my boy,” said the convict softly; “but if you speak, Mrs Braydon, knowing me for what I am, will say, ‘This man has wormed himself into my son’s confidence—he has obtained an influence over him that is not healthy—he had better go,’ and I should be exchanged, Master Nic, as they would exchange a horse or bullock. Don’t speak, sir, and have me sent away!”
Nic looked in the pleading eyes, and saw that the man’s lips were quivering from the strong emotion which animated him.
“Our secret, then,” he said; and at a touch of the heel the horse bounded away, with its rider feeling that every word the convict had spoken must be the truth.