“Because my whole future depends upon my ability to remain silent.”
For some minutes I did not speak; my bitter thoughts were wandering back to the conversation I had overheard in the garden at Blatherwycke. At last I resolved to attack him point-blank.
“Jack,” I exclaimed earnestly, looking into his pale, pained face. “Answer me one question. Did you ever know a woman named Sybil?”
For an instant his brow contracted, and his breath seemed to catch. His hand again trembled as he removed the cigar from his mouth.
“Sybil!” he echoed, his face paler than before. “Yes, it is true, I—I once knew someone of that name. You have discovered the secret of—”
“Captain Bethune,” interrupted my father’s man, who, followed by Dora, had entered the billiard-room unobserved, and who stood before us holding a card on a salver.
“Yes,” answered Jack, turning sharply.
“A gentleman has called to see you, sir.”
Jack took the card, glanced at it for an instant, and then starting suddenly to his feet, stood with clenched fists and glaring eyes.
“My God, Stuart! He is here! Save me, old fellow! You are my friend. Save me!”