Scarcely had the girl departed before Colin entered the room. Jerry looked at him during a space of some moments, and then turned to the fire, or rather fire-place, without uttering a word. “It is almost more than might have been expected,” observed Colin, taking a chair, and speaking in an assumed tone of careless surprise, “that I should have the good fortune to meet with you so early again this morning. But I am thankful indeed to find you alive and unharmed, after expecting nothing less than that you must have met your death in a dozen different dangers.” “_You_ thankful!” exclaimed Jerry. “Nay, nay, now!--What! hypocritical, like all the rest of the world? You care nothing for me, so don't pretend it,--no, nor for your mother either. Though a poor old man, sir, I am proud to be honest; and from this day forwards shall disown _you_, and would, though you were made the greatest man in England. You are too great a coward, sir.'” “To be induced to lift my hand against the life of a man who has befriended me, and is my own father, too, most certainly I am,” replied Colin. “What--bribery! bribery?” exclaimed Jerry; “purchased with fine clothes, I see! Well, well, you are your father's son, not mine. I say, you are too much of the worm.” “To injure my father, I am.” “Or to revenge your mother's wrongs.” “No, sir; I deny it. But I will not do it as you wish.” “And any other way it is impossible.” “I hope not,” replied Colin. “An injury may be great; but there is such a thing as restitution. Mr. Lupton is very kind to _me_.” “To you? But what is that to your mother, or to me, her father? Ay, ay, I see, young man, it is all self, self! _Mr. Lupton is very kind to me_--true--_to me_, and that is enough.” “No, it is not enough,” answered our hero. “A great deal more must be done, and may be done, if, to begin with, I can but make you and Mr. Lupton friends.” “_Friends!_” exclaimed Jerry--“friends! Utter that word again, sir--” “I do; I repeat it,” he continued; “and I am not such a coward as to fear that you will attempt to harm me, because I say that, both for my mother's sake and your own, for Mr. Lupton's and mine, you must be friends. Remember, if you have something to forgive him, he has a great deal to forgive you also.” “He something to forgive _me!_ What is it? I suppose for having spared him so long. But if I spare him much longer, may I never be forgiven where I shall better want it!” “It is but an hour or two ago,” replied Colin, “that I prevailed on him not to raise the hue and cry after you until things could be better explained, although you have twice attempted his life.” “Is that it? Is that his forgiveness? Then I hurl it back in his face, and in yours, and tell him I want none of it! If he wants to take me let him, and I will sit here till he comes. Fetch him, and let him try; and then, if the third time does not do for all, I shall well deserve a gallows for being such a bungler at my business.”