There was nothing in his tone or look to say whether the disclosure came to him as good news or bad. I longed to know, but I dared not ask. A long silence followed. He sat down on a chair with his face turned from me. I felt that to say another word would be a rude disturbance.
After a while he rose and said, in a voice very low and trembling, “I’ll go up stairs, Fred.”
“No,” said I, taking his arm and gently leading him back to his chair. “I’ll go up, old boy, and look after Billy to-night.”
He did not resist, and I hastened up.
Mr Smith met me at the door with anxious face.
“Well?” he inquired, in a voice which trembled as much as Jack’s had done.
“He knows all,” I said.
“Yes? and—”
“And he is downstairs, expecting you,” I said.
With a sigh very like a sob, Mr Smith left me and went down the stairs. All that long night, as I sat beside Billy and watched his fitful sleep, I could hear the sound of voices in the room below.