Mr. Athelstone allowed the violence of his nephew's feelings to exhaust itself, before he made a reply. He saw something had passed between Louis and the Duke, which the former still kept secret; and confident in his integrity, he determined not to press a disclosure he appeared so averse to offering voluntarily. "I perceive, Louis," said he, "that you do think it is possible you might have been placed in the predicament I have supposed. I also perceive this subtle nobleman has got you so far into his power as to have obtained your confidence, and a pledge from you of secrecy. I do not require you to betray it; but I warn you again! You have put _your heart into the hand of a man_ who is practised in deceiving; and who has no value for your deposit, but as it suits his purpose to make you _his toy or his tool_. These are his words, as you repeated them to me; and let them be his judge." Louis was shocked to find this accusation lodge, and not rebound from his heart. He acknowledged that the Duke did engage him in a conversation he would rather have avoided; but no pledge of secrecy had been demanded; yet it was implied, and he trusted his uncle would think the word of honour he then gave ought to be respected. "Your uncle, my child, will never induce you to violate that fidelity of word, which he has ever taught you to regard as one of the most sacred bonds of society. But, without committing yourself by any answer to what I may say, you must allow me to speak to the subject on which I believe your honour has been given?" "Speak freely, Sir, and I shall be grateful, but on your own terms, I make no answer." He prepared to listen, looking down, that Mr. Athelstone might not read by the consciousness of his eyes, how true or false was his guess.