"I have called to see Mr. Van Ostend, by appointment," said Father Honoré to the footman in attendance at the door of the mansion on the Avenue.
He was shown into the library. Mr. Van Ostend rose from the armchair to greet him.
"I am glad to see you, Father Honoré." He shook hands cordially and drew up a chair opposite to his own before the blazing hearth. "Be seated; I have given orders that we are not to be interrupted. I cannot pretend ignorance as to the cause of your coming—a sad, bad matter for us all. Have you any news?"
"Only that he is here in New York."
Mr. Van Ostend looked startled. "Here? Since when? My latest advice was this afternoon from the Maine detectives."
"I heard yesterday from headquarters that he had been traced here, but he must be in hiding somewhere; thus far they've found no trace of him. I felt sure, from the very first, he would return; that is why I came down. He couldn't avoid detection any longer in the country, nor could he hold out another week in the Maine wilderness—no man could stand it in this weather."
"How long have you been here, Father Honoré?"
"Three days. I promised Mrs. Googe to do what I could to find him; the mother suffers most."
"I know—I know; it's awful for her; but, for God's sake, what did he do it for!"
"Why do we all sin at times?"