Carlos sat in silence. He had finished his tale, and his first anxiety was to know the reception it would meet with.
He waited to hear what Mr. Duncan would have to say after his wonderment had found vent. But that gentleman, although excitable when his surprise or sympathy was aroused, said nothing at all for some moments.
CHAPTER XVI.
A REFUGE.
“This is marvelous!” repeated Mr. Duncan, when he finally spoke again. “And now, what do you intend to do?”
“That I cannot tell. I have formed no plans whatever. I have even doubted the wisdom of my flight.”
“I don’t know about that. Perhaps you did right, perhaps not.”
“Do you doubt my innocence?”
“No, I can’t say that I do. You don’t look like a man capable of performing such a deed. And Leonard gave a very good account of you. No, I haven’t the least doubt of your innocence. But if you had stood the trial, and been acquitted, it might have been better.”
“That is what I thought,” said Carlos. “But the evidence is strong, and everybody in Dalton believes me guilty; at least everybody except the secret few who know better, and I do not expect they will come forward to criminate themselves in order to save me.”