‘No, he drove me out, I tell you; and now I am coming back to him like a whipped cur to plead for mercy.’
The struggle between pride and necessity was raging in the young man’s breast.
‘Go and get the dog away, Marks,’ he exclaimed passionately, ‘and let me go, or I shall turn tail even now.’
Marks walked up to the hall, loosed the dog, and, holding him by the collar, led him away across the grounds some distance from the house. At the same moment there was a movement in the shrubbery on the other side of the house, and a big, burly man came creeping round in the shadow and stole noiselessly up the stairs.
At the same time another man, much thinner and shorter, came from the same place, and, keeping along by the walls of the house, went round to where a short garden ladder stood against the side of the house where & creeper was being trained.
It was immediately under the library window.
When Marks had been gone some little time, and George knew that the dog would be beyond hearing distance, he came up through the trees towards the house.
Marks was to lead the dog round and take him back to the lodge, and wait there with Bess till George returned.
The moment had arrived.
The young man’s idea in entering the house like a thief, and at night, was to avoid recognition by the servants. He wanted to see his father alone and unperceived—to go like the prodigal, and cast himself at his feet, and say, ‘Father, forgive me!’