A moment of bewildering uncertainty succeeded. Henry asked himself first, should he go back? then, for what purpose? But he soon saw that to do so would serve none. He could not see and speak to Lord Mellent in such a state; and he resolved to hurry on, though to be the bearer of such disastrous tidings to his father made his heart sink. He ate no supper; he slept no more; and driver and horses being good, he arrived at the General Post-office a little after four. A hackney-coach was soon obtained, the guard and coachman were feed, and before five he was at his father's house. The instant the coach stopped, the door was opened by Mr. Hayley himself, and Henry sprang out to meet him. "Put the portmanteau in the hall, and wait," said Mr. Hayley to the coachman; and holding Henry's hand, he led him towards his own sitting-room. The lad saw that his father was pale and haggard, and he dreaded the effect of what he had to tell; but still he would not delay, and even as they went to the room the main facts were poured forth. To his surprise, Mr. Hayley seemed hardly to listen; and when they were in the study, he locked the door and gazed earnestly at the boy. His words were short, sharp, and to the lad seemed wild. "Henry," he said, "you love me, I think--do you not?" Henry gazed in his face, utterly astounded. "I know you do," his father added; "I am sure you do. Now, my dear boy, you can prove it. You can save my life--my honour." "How?--how?" cried the boy. "I will do all--anything you please, my dear father; only tell me what. "It is, Henry, to get into that coach again and drive down to Blackwall. You will there find a steamer ready to start for Rotterdam at six in the morning. Embark in her; from Rotterdam go up the Rhine, through Germany to Italy, and stay at Ancona till you hear from me. Here are money and a passport." "But why?--why?" asked the boy earnestly. "Oh, tell me all, for fear I make any mistake." Mr. Hayley grasped his arm very tight, and bending down his head, whispered in a voice hardly audible, yet stern too--"Henry, that bill which you took to the bankers' was forged--_I_ forged it! If you stay, you must stay to be a witness against me and condemn me to death." The young man sank down in a chair, with a face so pale that his father thought he was going to faint. "Here, take some wine," he said, pouring him out a tumbler-full from a decanter that stood on the table, and Henry drank it all. The father gazed upon his face with a look of agonised expectation, while the lad put his hand to his head, as if to recover his scattered thoughts. "But they will say I did it," he murmured at length. "I shall be an exile for ever, and never see you more."