"Hush," exclaimed Gulian, with a deprecatory gesture, "You will wake Mr. Somers. He has had one convulsion already, and it may prove fatal. I have sent for a doctor,--oh, why does he not come?" "You shall not avoid me in that way, my young friend," said Tarleton. He laid his hand on the arm of the boy, and bent his face so near to him that the latter felt the Colonel's breath upon his forehead. "The money which I bestowed upon your education, I obtained by what the world calls _felony_. For you--for you--" his voice sunk to a deeper tone, and his eyes flashed with anger; "for you I spent some years in that delightful retreat, which is known to vulgar ears by the word,--PENITENTIARY!" "God help me," cried the boy, affrighted by the expression which stamped the Colonel's face. "_Penitentiary_ or _jail_, call it what you will, I spent some years there for your sake. And do you wish to evade me now when, I tell you that I reared you but for one object, and that object dearer to me than life? You ran away from my guardianship; you attempt to conceal yourself from me; you attempt to foil the hope for which I have suffered the tortures of the damned these twenty years? Come, my boy, you'll think better of it." The smile of the Colonel was altogether fiendish. The boy sank on his knees, and raised to the Colonel's gaze that beautiful face stamped with terror, and bathed in tears. "Oh, pardon me--forgive me!" he cried, "Do not kill me--" "Kill you! Pshaw!" "Let me live an obscure life, away from your observation; let me be humble, poor and unknown; as you value the hope of salvation, do not--I beseech you on my knees--do not ask me to comply with your request!" "If you don't get up, I may be tempted to strike you," was the brutal remark of the Colonel. "Pitiful wretch! Hark ye," he bent his head,--"the robber who this night murdered Evelyn Somers, gained admittance to this house by means of a night-key. He had an _accomplice_ in the house, who supplied him with the key. That accomplice, (let us suppose a case) was yourself--" "Me!" cried the boy, in utter horror. "I can _obtain_ evidence of the fact," continued the Colonel, and paused. "You had better think twice before you enter the lists with me and attempt to thwart my will." The boy, thus kneeling, did not reply, but buried his face in his hands, and his flowing hair hid those hands with its luxurious waves. He shook in every nerve with agony. He sobbed aloud. "Will you be quiet?" the Colonel seized him roughly by the shoulder, "or shall I throttle you?" "Yes, kill me, _fiend_, kill me, oh! kill me with one blow:" the boy raised his face, and pronounced these words, his eyes flashing with hatred, as he uttered the word "_fiend_." There was something startling in the look of mortal hatred which had so suddenly fixed itself upon that beautiful face. Even the Colonel was startled. "Nay, nay, my child," he said in a soothing tone, "get up, get up, that's a dear child--I meant no harm--"