"Given them back."
"The letters?"
Harry went to his writing-table and produced the bundle. They lay in his hand with the blue ribbon and the neat handwriting, "For Robert Trojan," outside.
Robin stared. "Not the letters?"
"Yes—the letters; I have had them some days."
But still he did not move. "You've had them?—several days?"
"Yes. I went to see Miss Feverel on my own account and she gave me them——"
"You had them when we asked you to help us!"
"Yes—of course. It was a little secret of my own and Miss Feverel's—our—if you like—revenge."
"And we've been laughing at you, scorning you; and we tried—all of us—and could do nothing! I say, you're the cleverest man in England! Score! Why I should think you have!" and then he added, "But I'm ashamed—terribly. You have known all these days and said nothing—and I! I wonder what you've thought of me——"