The lad had turned to his mother, and went on with a kind of sullen eagerness: "There were sixteen of us, including an English clergyman, his wife and two young children, and a young couple travelling on their honeymoon. It wasn't as if they had taken our word and let us go: they marched us off at once to special quarters--billeted us all in one house, over a greengrocer's shop, with a Government _concierge_ below stairs to keep watch on our going and coming. A roll was called every night at eight--you see, there was no liberty about it. The whole thing was a fraud. Father Halloran may say what he likes, but there are two sides to a bargain; and if one party breaks faith, what becomes of the other's promise?" Mrs. a Cleeve cast a pitiful glance at Father Halloran's back. The priest neither answered nor turned. "Besides, they stole my money. All that father sent passed through the prefect's hands and again through the _concierge's_; yes, and was handled by half a dozen other rascals, perhaps, before ever it reached me. They didn't even trouble themselves to hide the cheat. One week I might be lucky and pick up a whole louis; the next I'd be handed five francs and an odd sou or two, with a grin." "And all the while your father was sending out your allowance as usual-- twenty pounds to reach you on the first of every month--and Dickinson's agents in Paris sending back assurances that it would be transmitted and reach you as surely as if France and England were at peace!" Father Halloran caught the note of anxious justification in Mrs. a Cleeve's voice, and knew that it was meant for him. He turned now with a half audible "Pish!" but controlled his features--superfluously, since he stood now with his back to the waning light. "Have you seen him?" he asked abruptly. "Seen whom?" "Your father." "I came around by the east door, meaning to surprise mother. I only arrived here two minutes before you knocked." "For God's sake answer me 'yes' or 'no,' like a man!" thundered Father Halloran, suddenly giving vent to his anger: as suddenly checking it with a tight curb, he addressed Mrs. a Cleeve. "Your pardon!" said he. The woman almost whimpered. She could not use upon her confessor the card of weak nerves she would have played at once and unhesitatingly upon her husband. "I think you are horribly unjust," she said. "God knows how I have looked forward to this moment: and you are spoiling all! One would say you are not glad to see our boy back!" The priest ignored the querulous words. "You must see your father at once," he said gravely. "At once," he repeated, noting how Walter's eyes sought his mother's. "Of course, if you think it wise--" she began. "I cannot say if it be wise--in your meaning. It is his duty." "We can go with him--" "No." "But we might help to explain?"