"Your creed must be an original one!" replied Jaspar, with a sickly laugh.
"It is an original one. You thought yourself better entitled to your brother's property than this giddy girl. So did I; and it was my duty to see justice done. A matter of conscience with me, upon my honor."
"Enough of this!" said Jaspar, sternly, for a joke soon grew stale with him.
"Be it so; but remember the story is true."
"And you did me the favor to blow up the steamer!" sneered Jaspar.
"At the risk of my own life, I did. I bribed the firemen to crowd on the steam, and the engineers to keep down the safety-valve,—all under the excitement of a race, though with special reference to your interest."
"Was this part of your creed, too?"
"Certainly," and the attorney launched out into a dissertation of theology and kindred topics, with which we will not trouble the reader.
Jaspar heard it not, for he was busy in considerations of a less metaphysical character. He was thinking of his present position, and of the overseer, whose step he heard on the veranda.
"I see," said he, interrupting De Guy, "you have been my friend."