"Are two in number."
"Name them," I said eagerly.
"First, that your name is not Roger Penryn."
"Yes; what next?"
He seemed surprised that I should make so little ado at his discovery, and stared at me as though waiting for me to say some foolish thing. Whereas the truth was, that I was relieved that the truth was to come to light. I fretted like a horse frets when a saddle rubs him, every time I heard the name of Penryn.
"What next?" I repeated.
"That you are a sneak."
"Steady, steady, Otho Killigrew!" I said, for the word had not a pleasant sound. "But we will deal with these two charges. What are your proofs?"
"There are proofs enough," replied Otho—"proofs enough. One is, that I suspected you as you sat at my father's table last night."