“Under the circumstances, as stated by you, the inference might be drawn,” quoth he.
And then followed a little silence. Both men were looking towards Delancey Castle, and it may be pretty safely conjectured that the thoughts of both were occupied by that same Castle.
John, if the truth be known, was longing—fervently longing—that the old priest should give voice to that matter, which, he was fully aware, was uppermost in their minds. For him to broach the subject would, he feared, savour too strongly of impertinence on the part of a complete stranger. Yet it is very certain that, without any undue curiosity on his part, he desired intensely to know the actual rights of the case, to arrive at the veritable truth of the rumour which had twice reached his ears.
Now whether John’s desire was sufficiently intense to communicate itself to Father Maloney, or whether it was that the subject which so absorbed the old priest’s mind was bound to find an outlet in speech, you may settle as best pleases you. For my part, I have no definite opinion to offer on the matter, though I sway slightly in favour of the latter conclusion. When every nook and cranny of the mind is filled with a thought which increases in volume the more it is absorbed, there comes a point when an outlet in speech is practically a necessity, and, to my thinking, this point had been reached in the present case of Father Maloney’s mind. Also it is quite possible that he recognized the silent and unobtrusive sympathy of John. Certain it is that he began to speak.
“I suppose you’ll have heard the news of yonder Castle?” he asked, pulling at his pipe.
“I’ve heard rumours,” acquiesced John, “which I devoutly trusted were nothing more.”
“I trusted that myself,” said Father Maloney grimly. “But the truth of them is clinched now, and that’s a fact.”
“Ah!” said John quietly. And then, “Would you tell me the story? I should like to hear it, if you wouldn’t mind telling it.”
“Not at all, since you’d be caring to hear it But it’s a longish tale, and a bit complicated at that. It might be boring you.”
“Not a bit of it,” declared John fervently. “I’ve been wanting to hear the truth of the matter ever since the first rumour reached my ears. Honestly,” he continued smiling, “it has been nothing but the fear of a snub that prevented me from broaching the subject the first moment I dropped on the grass beside you.”