"I will not detain you long," said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, in the tone of a man who is about to smite his enemy on the hip; "possibly you would not have remained, had you not been curious to know what I have to say respecting your son-in-law." "Possibly not, sir; you may guess the reason why I wished the tender girl who was here just now not to be present while you spoke." "Because I might say something unpleasant. Well, it is not a creditable story. Searching among the papers of a deceased man, having warranty to do so, his effects being the property of my son, I came upon this paper. It recites a singular story of an embezzlement, which took place--let me see; ah, yes--which took place nearly eighteen years ago. You know the story, probably?" "There are so many stories of embezzlement. Is my name mentioned?" "Otherwise I should not have spoken of the matter to you. After reciting the manner of the embezzlement and the name of the criminal, it speaks of intercession by you on his behalf, and how, somewhat out of compassion and somewhat out of policy, criminal proceedings were withheld. You undertook to repay the money, and after the payment of one large sum, dates are set down on which smaller sums were paid on account from time to time." "Anything to deny?" asked the minister. At this point Felix entered the room. "Nothing to deny. The story is true." "And you," exclaimed the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell loftily, "the father of a criminal who should be expiating his crime in prison, presume to lift your voice against me! Truly, I should but be doing my duty to society if I were to make the matter public." "Do I understand that the man from whom the money was embezzled is dead?" "He is dead." "There is a balance still due," said old Wheels; "one hundred pounds. Has he left the claim to any one?" "My son is heir to the property," said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. "Your son!" There were traces of disappointment in the old man's voice as he looked at Felix. "Is this he?" "This is he."