"And what did he say?"
"That he will bear his burden alone."
Then, for a moment, silence and the ticking of the clocks.
"And I shall never know my father?" said Trove, presently, his lips trembling. "God, sir! I insist upon it. I have a right to his name and to his shame also." The young man sank upon a chair, covering his face.
"Nay, boy, it is not wise," said Darrel, tenderly. "Take thought of it—thou'rt young. The time is near when thy father can make restitution, ay, an' acknowledge his sin before the world. All very near to him, saving thyself, are dead. Now, whatever comes, it can do thee no harm."
"But I care not for disgrace; and often you have told me that I should live and speak the truth, even though it burn me to the bone."
"So have I, boy, so have I; but suppose it burn others to the bone. It will burn thy wife; an' thy children, an' thy children's children, and them that have reared thee, an' it would burn thy father most of all."
Trove was utterly silenced. His father was bent on keeping his own disgrace.
"Mind thee, boy, the law o' truth is great, but the law o' love is greater. A lie for the sake o' love—think o' that a long time, think until thy heart is worn with all fondness an' thy soul is ready for its God, then judge it."
"But when he makes confession I shall know, and go to him, and stand by has side," the young man remarked.