“Excuse me—I—I am ill—I cannot stay here!” he stammered, in a low voice; and rising hurriedly, regardless of Mrs. Williams’ shocked expression, he staggered from the room.
The gentleman hastily followed. He found Will in the dimly lighted ante-room, where the boy stood wringing his hands in an agony of nervous excitement. Seeing the man he rushed toward him at once, saying:
Trembling violently, he stared at the man pointed out as John Carden. Page [186.]
“John Carden! Are you really John Carden?”
“Yes.”
“John Carden of Bingham?”
“Yes,” repeated the other, seizing Will’s outstretched hands; “once of Bingham.”
“Then I am your son!” cried the boy, with a sob. “I am Will Carden.”