Geoffrey pitied him sincerely, while at the same time a feeling of horror crept over him as he began to realize that the man had been making a confession of murder.
Had he killed Margery, and attempted his life also? And was that the secret of his having been abandoned in the great city of New York?
He was burning with eagerness to learn all the truth.
“I do not wish to pain you, Jack,” he said, “but I want you to tell me all there is to tell. Begin at the beginning, here in this peaceful spot, where no one will come to disturb us, and ease your conscience of its burden.”
Jack looked up quickly as he referred to that sacred inclosure.
“How came ye to know where to find yer mother’s grave?” he asked.
Geoffrey’s heart bounded within him at this question.
“Annie” had been his mother, then. It was a great thing to have that point settled, and he felt sure now that the rest would all be explained.
“Never mind that just now, Jack,” he replied, with what calmness he could assume; “when you have told me all your story I will answer any question you may ask.”
“Ye’ll not give me over to the officers, lad?” the man pleaded, pitifully.