“Call me at an early hour, there’s a good fellow, for I have to be off betimes,” he added.
Mr Kyffin waited a minute, and then proceeded down-stairs into the office. A light was burning on the desk. By it he saw Mr Sleech hunting about in all directions, evidently looking for his keys. The search was, of course, in vain. He seemed to think so, for producing a cold iron from his pocket, with as little noise as possible he wrenched open the desk. He seized the light and looked in. Dismay was depicted on his countenance. At that instant Mr Kyffin entered the room.
“Wretched scoundrel, confess your villainies!” he exclaimed. “Was it to betray an honest youth, and to blast his character through a miserable feeling of jealousy and revenge, that you pretended to be his friend? Confess what you have done, or prepare to be given over into the hands of justice.”
On hearing Mr Kyffin’s voice Silas dropped the lid of the desk, and slipping off his stool, went down on his knees, holding up his hands with a look of the most abject terror. “I did not intend to injure him, indeed I did not!” he exclaimed, in a whining voice.
“Oh! Mr Kyffin, you know how long I have toiled for the house, and how our employer’s interests were as dear to me as my own; then how can you accuse me of doing such things as you say I have done?”
“Don’t kneel to me,” answered Mr Kyffin, sternly; “don’t add additional falsehood to your other villainies. Expect no leniency from me. Of all bad characters, I hate a hypocrite the most. I will make no promise, but if you will confess in a court of justice what you have done, I may possibly endeavour to have your punishment mitigated, and no other promise can I make.”
“I will do all you ask, indeed I will,” answered Silas, “only don’t look so fierce; don’t shoot me,” he exclaimed, looking at the pistol which, unconsciously, Mr Kyffin had taken from his pocket.
“I have no intention of shooting you, but again say I will make no promises. Mr Coppinger will decide what is to be done with the man who has robbed him, and so cruelly treated his nephew.”
Saying this, Mr Kyffin returned the pistol to his pocket. The round eyes of Silas had been watching him all the time. He now hung down his head as if ashamed to meet Mr Kyffin’s glance. His eye, however, was glancing upward all the time. Suddenly he made a spring, and rushed towards Mr Kyffin.
