"I have not spoken, Master." "Speak, then! It is time. I have done more for you than for all the rest, and not a word!" "We have done more for you than you for us all. What you give us we first give you." It was as if a thunderbolt had fallen. The assembly scattered like a flock of frightened sheep. I had this from Westlake himself. He came straight over to me. Not that Westlake and I are friends. There had never been any intimacy between us. There never has been any, unless for those few hours that day. Senator had been secured. His sentence had been announced. It was banishment. Those who were nearest the master's confidence had leave to add the terrible name--New Orleans. Senator had neither mother nor wife. He was nineteen, the age of enterprise and confidence. Perhaps, after all, it was the master on whom the doom would fall most heavily, I thought, while Westlake was making his recital. He was almost pale; his heavy features were sharpened; his firm, round cheeks were flaccid and sunken; his voice was hoarse and tremulous. Surely, that birthday might count for ten. "I cannot overlook it," he groaned out. "You know that yourself, Colvil. I cannot forgive it. It would be against my duty, and---- Any way, I cannot. But--you may think it strange--but I am not angry. I was, but I am not now. I cannot bear to know him locked up there in the corn-barn, shackled and chained, and thinking all the time that it is I who have done it to him!" Westlake had not seen the man since his imprisonment, and had come over to ask me to be present at the first interview. I declined positively. "I do not believe," I said, "that he is to be reasoned out of his opinions. Certainly he will not be reasoned out of them by me. If anything could persuade a nature like his to submission, it would be the indulgent course you have till now pursued with him. If that has failed, no means within your reach will succeed." "You do not understand me. I do not want you to reason with him, or to persuade him to anything. I only ask you to be witness to what I am going to say to him, that he may believe me,--that he may not himself thwart me in my plans." "In what plans?" "Plans that you will agree to, and that you will help me in, I hope,--but which I cannot trust to any one but you, nor to you except to have your help. If you will come with me, you shall know them; if not, I must take my chance, and he must take his." I did not put much faith in Westlake's plans; but the thought of Senator chained and caged drew me to his prison. There might be nothing for me to do there; but, since I was called, I would go.