"Do you know who took Janet Todd away from home?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Ulick, in a low voice.
"Ah!" exclaimed the Squire, in a tone of satisfaction. "Then why have you not given me his name long ago?"
"Because I only discovered it the other day, and that quite by accident."
"Who is the scoundrel?"
"I cannot tell you."
"You must," thundered the Squire.
Ulick remained silent, nothing his father might say would make him break his resolve. It was hard, very hard, and at that moment he hated Warren Courtly heartily.
"Come, my boy," said his father, in a milder tone, "let there be no more differences between us. Are you satisfied if I say I am convinced of your innocence, and ask you to forgive me for my unjust suspicions? I regret the hasty, angry words I said that night. Come back home with me, and let bygones be bygones."
Ulick was moved, for he knew what it cost his father to speak such words, and acknowledge himself in the wrong. It was an appeal that cut him to the heart to refuse.