"Guy!" repeated the old man, "did someone say Guy? Quick, tell me where is Guy? Guy! Guy!" and with the words the feeble head drooped upon his throbbing bosom, the eyelids closed wearily, he raised his wasted hands to his aching temples, and with a long, heavy sigh, fell backwards.
Everything else was forgotten, for the ten minutes it took to revive Mr. Rayne. Honor, trembling with fright, supported his head on her bosom, and spoke appealingly to him. After a little his eyelids quivered and opened, he breathed again and sat up.
"Are you better?" Honor asked, bending over him in great eagerness.
"Yes, my dear," he answered kindly, "I am all right now, but where is
Guy?"
"Here I am," Guy said, advancing a step, "I hope you will pardon the manner in which I have entered your house, after years of absence, but I have come, and only just in time to vindicate the wrongs of poor, duped victims, and to rescue innocence from the foul grasp of corruption."
"What do you mean, Guy?" his uncle asked in curious consternation.
"I mean to tell my pain and my regret at knowing that while you have forbidden the shelter and comforts of your home to those of your own blood, who have committed deeds of harmless rashness, you have been welcoming and fostering with lavish generosity under your roof a vile man—a wolf in sheep's clothing!"
"May I, as seeming somewhat concerned, ask who this is?" Vivian interrupted in the blandest tones, laying his arm on Guy's shoulder.
"'Tis yourself" Guy cried, shaking him violently off, "you coward! villain! rogue!"
"Guy, you mystify me," Henry Rayne said in strange wonder, "pray explain. Whatever can you mean by such queer conduct?"