John Massingbird paused to take a draught of the rum-and-water, and then resumed.

“I never saw any man so agitated as Mr. Verner.  Upon my word, had I foreseen the effect the news would have had upon him, I hardly think I should have told it.  His face turned ghastly; he lay back in his chair, uttering groans of despair; in short, it had completely prostrated him.  I never knew how deeply he was attached to you, Lionel, until that night.”

“He believed the story?” said Lionel.

“Of course he believed it,” assented John Massingbird.  “I told it him as a certainty, as a thing about which there was no admission for the slightest doubt:  I assumed it, myself, to be a certainty.  When he was a little recovered, he took possession of the glove, and bound me to secrecy.  You would never have forgotten it, Lionel, had you seen his shaking hands, his imploring eyes, heard his voice of despair; all lifted to beseech secrecy for you—­for the sake of his dead brother—­for the name of Verner—­for his own sake.  I heartily promised it; and he handed me over a more liberal sum than even I had expected, enjoined me to depart with the morrow’s dawn, and bade me Godspeed.  I believe he was glad that I was going, lest I might drop some chance word during the present excitement of Deerham, and by that means direct suspicion to you.  He need not have feared.  I was already abusing myself mentally for having told him, although it had gained me my ends:  ’Live and let live’ had been my motto hitherto.  The interview was nearly over when you came to interrupt it, asking if Mr. Verner would see Robin Frost.  Mr. Verner answered that he might come in.  He came; you and Fred with him.  Do you recollect old Verner’s excitement?—­his vehement words in answer to Robin’s request that a reward should be posted up?  ’He’ll never be found, Robin; the villain will never be found, so long as you and I and the world shall last.’  I recollect them, you see, word for word, to this hour; but none, save myself, knew what caused Mr. Verner’s excitement, or that the word ‘villain’ was applied to you.  Upon my word and honour, old boy, I felt as if I had the deeper right to it! and I felt angry with old Verner for looking at the affair in so strong a light.  But there was no help for it.  I went away the next morning——­”

“Stay!” interrupted Lionel.  “A single word to me would have set the misapprehension straight.  Why did you not speak it?”

“I wish I had, now.  But—­it wasn’t done.  There!  The knowledge that turns up in the future we can’t call to aid in the present.  If I had had a doubt that it was you, I should have spoken.  We were some days out at sea on our voyage to Australia when I and Luke got comparing notes; and I found, to my everlasting astonishment, that it was not you, after all, who had been with Rachel, but Fred.”

“You should have written home, to do me justice with Mr. Verner.  You ought not to have delayed one instant, when the knowledge came to you.”