Then, for a moment, silence and the ticking of the clocks. "And I shall never know my father?" said Trove, presently, his lips trembling. "God, sir! I insist upon it. I have a right to his name and to his shame also." The young man sank upon a chair, covering his face. "Nay, boy, it is not wise," said Darrel, tenderly. "Take thought of it--thou'rt young. The time is near when thy father can make restitution, ay, an' acknowledge his sin before the world. All very near to him, saving thyself, are dead. Now, whatever comes, it can do thee no harm." "But I care not for disgrace; and often you have told me that I should live and speak the truth, even though it burn me to the bone." "So have I, boy, so have I; but suppose it burn others to the bone. It will burn thy wife; an' thy children, an' thy children's children, and them that have reared thee, an' it would burn thy father most of all." Trove was utterly silenced. His father was bent on keeping his own disgrace. "Mind thee, boy, the law o' truth is great, but the law o' love is greater. A lie for the sake o' love--think o' that a long time, think until thy heart is worn with all fondness an' thy soul is ready for its God, then judge it." "But when he makes confession I shall know, and go to him, and stand by has side," the young man remarked. "Nay, boy, rid thy mind o' that. If ye were to hear of his crime, ye'd never know it was thy father's." "It is a bitter sorrow, but I shall make the best of it," said Trove. "Ay, make the best of it. Thou'rt now in the deep sea, an' God guide thee." "But I ask your help--will you read that?" said Trove, handing him the mysterious note that came with the roll of money. "An' how much came with it?" said Darrel, as he read the lines. "Three thousand dollars. Here they are; I do not know what to do with them." "'Tis a large sum, an' maybe from thy father," said Darrel, looking down at tile money. "Possibly, quite possibly it is from thy father." "And what shall I do with the money? It is cursed; I can make no use of it." "Ah, boy, of one thing be sure; it is not the stolen money. For many years thy father hath been a frugal man--saving, ever saving the poor fruit of his toil. Nay, boy, if it come o' thy father, have no fear o' that. For a time put thy money in the bank." "Then my father lives near me--where I may be meeting him every day of my life?" "No," said Darrel, shaking his head. Then lifting his finger and looking into the eyes of Trove, he spoke slowly and with deep feeling. "Now that ye know his will I warn ye, boy, seek him no more. Were ye to meet him now an' know him for thy father an' yet refuse to let him pass, I'd think thee a monster o' selfish cruelty." XXIV Beginning the Book of Trouble