I stood watching Sir John, who seemed nearly mad with grief and rage,
and a dozen times over my lips opened to speak, but without a sound
being heard. At last he looked up at me and saw what I wanted to do,
but which respect kept back.
"Well," he said, "what do you propose doing?"
I remained silent for a moment, and then, feeling that even if he was
offended, I was doing right, I said to him what was in my heart.
"Sir John, I never married, and I never had a son. It's all a mystery
to me."
"Man, you are saved from a curse!" he cried fiercely.
"No, dear master, no," I said, as I laid my hand upon his arm. "You
don't believe that. I only wanted to say that if I had had a boy--a
fine, handsome, brave lad like Mr Barclay--"
"Fine!--brave!" he says contemptuously.
"Who had never done a thing wrong, or been disobedient in any way till
he fell into temptation that was too strong for him--"
"Bah! I could have forgiven that. But for him to have turned thief!"