He arose, and was moving towards the door.
“Stop!” shouted Mason, stepping before him. “Mrs Hyland,” continued the steward, “I know enough about this man, and his management of your business, to justify you in giving him in charge to a policeman. Shall I call one?”
For a minute Mrs Hyland was silent.
I looked at Adkins, and saw that my triumph over him was complete. His own appearance condemned him; and anyone to have seen him at that moment—humiliated, cowed, and guilty—would ever after have dreaded doing wrong; through very fear of looking as he did.
In truth, he presented a melancholy spectacle: for he had not the courage to assume even a show of manliness.
To complete my triumph, and his discomposure, Lenore, who had been all the while listening with eager interest, and apparent pleasure to what had been said, cried out, “Let him go, mother, if he will promise never to come near us again!”
“Yes, let him go!” repeated Mrs Hyland. “I must think before I can act.”
Mason opened the door; and Adkins sneaked out in a fashion that was painful, even for me—his enemy—to behold. After his departure, each waited for the other to speak.
The silence was broken by Mrs Hyland, who said:
“Of you, Mr Wilton, and you, Mr Mason, I have often heard my late husband speak in the highest terms; and I know of no reason, why I should not believe what you have told me.”