“Didn’t I promise to tell you some day who the man was that killed your father?”
“Yes,” exclaimed Vijal, fiercely.
“Well, I’m going to tell you.”
“Who?” cried Vijal, in excitement so strong that he could scarce speak.
“Did you see that man who drove me out of the Hall?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that was the man. He killed your father. He has ruined me—your other father. What do you say to that?”
“He shall die,” returned Vijal, solemnly. “He shall die.”
“I am an old man,” resumed Potts. “If I were as strong as I used to be I would not talk about this to you. I would do it all myself.”
“I’ll do it!” cried Vijal. “I’ll do it!”