“Only my duty, sir,” said Neil gravely, “and I only wish that—”
He stopped short.
“Yes—yes—what?” said his father eagerly.
“That I could have followed out your wishes in another way.”
He rose and went out of the room, leaving the helpless man gazing sadly after him.
“The tyrant’s reign is over,” he said sadly, “and I must be resigned to all that comes.”
Neil went hurriedly down to the library, to stop short as he reached the door, for there was the low murmur of a man’s voice within, speaking in appealing tones.
“Poor Bel!” muttered Neil, as the recollection of all that had passed that day came back, and his promise—entirely forgotten—to keep Burwood with him, came like a flash.
It was only a dozen steps to the dining room, and he hurried there to throw open the door, and, as he feared, find it empty.
Angry with himself for his carelessness, though hardly at the moment seeing how he could have acted differently, he hurried back to the library, entered suddenly, and then stopped, as if paralysed by the pang which shot through him.