Much relieved, Pierre shows great appreciation of his boy's kindly interest.
Paul is pleased at these grateful comments. He now and then glances at his watch. Nervously walking to the door, he returns and sits down by his father's side. With much filial solicitude he says:
"Father, you should never venture out on late night watches. This attack was the result of last night's vigil.
"You are getting older, father, and can't stand night work. It will never do to risk such an attack at night. I cannot bear the thought of sleeping while you are wandering about London, liable to be paralyzed at any moment in some dark alley. I need my father's counsels too badly to risk losing him through such rash exposure."
Growing excited, Paul grasps his dagger, and glowering at the shrinking, reclining form, dramatically waves the glistening blade as he utters the injunction:
"Never go out again at night in London!"
Cowed by this unexpected pose and threat, Pierre Lanier promises to stay in nights.
"I know my dear son is right! My own Paul always will care for his poor old father!"
Paul grows quiet. With shamefaced, submissive mien he sheathes the thin, gleaming blade. Then follow suppressed sobs and hysterical assurances of future obedience.
With childish penitence this hardened youth, steeped in murderous guilt and crazed by tragic memories almost to the point of irresponsible parricide, hiding his face upon his father's breast, cries himself to sleep.