“I’m going to my room—to stay there, sir—but don’t do anything about me till we hear what the great doctor says; it may not be so bad. Can I see my cousin now?”
“No. The doctor’s orders are that no one but the nurse is to enter his room. There, let us end this painful interview.”
“I am innocent, sir, indeed!” it was upon Richard’s lips to say; but the stern, doubting look on the tutor’s face checked him, and he went slowly up to his room, utterly crushed as he sank into a chair, conscious the next moment that the curtain which separated it from his bedchamber was pushed aside, and Jerry appeared.
“Been a-waiting, sir. They’re a-saying, sir, that you tried to kill Mr Mark Frayne because he was going to tell on you about some money troubles. It ain’t true, is it, sir?”
“True!” cried Richard, flushing indignantly.
“I knowed it wasn’t!” said Jerry, triumphantly. “You couldn’t ha’ done such a thing, S’Richard; but I wouldn’t ha’ believed as you could hit so hard.”
“Go now, please.”
“Yes, sir, just a-going; but don’t you take on, sir. P’raps he’ll get better; but, if he don’t—well, sir, he’s your cousin, but—”
“That will do; now go.”
Jerry gave his mouth a slap, and hurried from the room.