“Yes—’tis he!” he ejaculated to himself; and, laying his hand upon the other’s shoulder, he said, “Mr. Howard, we meet at last—after a separation of upwards of nineteen years!”
“My name is not Howard—and I know nothing of you, sir. Let me go!” was the impatient reply, delivered by the individual whom the old man had accosted, and who was himself well stricken in years—being now midway between sixty and seventy.
“Were I on my death bed, I could swear that your name was once Howard, and that you were an attorney in London—an attorney who absconded, ruining thousands,” exclaimed the old man.
“What means this insolence?” asked the other, affecting a tone of deep indignation mingled with surprise. “Pass on your way, sir—and let me pursue mine!”
“Not till I have had recompense or vengeance,” growled the old man, ferociously. “For a sum of money did I sell myself to a vile and abandoned woman—a certain Mrs. Slingsby, whom you knew well;—and this money was deposited with you, villain that you are! For you fled—and the loss of that money was not the lightest of the myriad misfortunes that fell upon me at the time. Now do you know who I am, Mr. Howard?—for I know you full well!”
“You have spoken of a number of unintelligible things to me, sir—mentioned names with which I never was acquainted—alluded to circumstances entirely unknown——”
“Liar!” ejaculated Mr. Torrens—for he was the old man who had just now so wearily entered the suburb of Pentonville: “liar!” he repeated, seizing the other individual by the collar; “what should prevent me from raising an alarm and giving you into custody? For though years have elapsed, yet your offences have never been expiated——”
“Softly—softly, my good sir,” interrupted the person thus addressed, and whose manner began to evince trepidation and alarm. “Let us adjourn somewhere and talk amicably on this matter——”
“No!” cried Mr. Torrens. “How do I know but that you intend to inveigle me into a den where you may perhaps silence my tongue for ever?”
“Fool—dotard!” muttered the other between his lips: “does he take me for a murderer?”