What explanation could he give? But to leave his father suffering in body and in mind, without attempt at it, was a pain hard to bear.
“Father, I am innocent,” he said. It was all he could say; and it was spoken all too quietly.
Mr. Channing gazed at him searchingly. “In the teeth of appearances?”
“Yes, sir, in the teeth of appearances.”
“Then why—if I am to believe you—have assumed the aspect of guilt, which you certainly have done?”
Arthur involuntarily glanced at Hamish; the thought of his heart was, “You know why, if no one else does;” and caught Hamish looking at him stealthily, under cover of his fingers. Apparently, Hamish was annoyed at being so caught, and started up.
“Good night, mother. I am going to bed.”
They wished him good night, and he left the room. Mr. Channing turned again to Arthur. He took his hand, and spoke with agitation. “My boy, do you know that I would almost rather have died, than live to see this guilt fall upon you?”
“Oh, father, don’t judge me harshly!” he implored. “Indeed I am innocent.”
Mr. Channing paused. “Arthur, you never, as I believe, told me a lie in your life. What is this puzzle?”