"What would you? The man knows that I am Adam Andinnian: and, knowing it, he holds a sword over me. Is it worth my while, or not, to try to keep it from falling?" Karl sighed deeply. He saw all the intricacies of the case; and, what was worse, he saw no outlet from them. If only he could but feel that his brother was passably safe at the Maze, he would have been less uneasy: but a secret instinct, that he surely believed was a prevision, warned him of danger. "I wish, with my whole heart, Adam, that you had never come here!" broke from him, in his dire perplexity, the reiterated cry. Sir Adam threw down the "Art Journal," and turned to confront his brother, leaning a little forward in his chair. His face was flushed, his voice took a tone of passion, even his beautiful teeth looked stern. "Karl, did you ever try to realize to yourself all the horrors of my position at Portland!" he asked. "I, a gentleman, with a gentleman's habits--and a man to whom freedom of will and of limb was as the very, essence of life--was condemned for ever to a manacled confinement; to mate with felons; to be pointed at as one of a herd of convict labourers. A felon myself, you will perhaps say; but I do not recognize it. Had I been guilty of aught disgraceful? No. What I did, in shooting that man Scott, I was perfectly justified in doing, after my solemn warning to him. Remember, it was my wife he insulted that evening; not simply, as the world was allowed to believe, my young neighbour, Miss Rose Turner. What should _you_ feel if some low reprobate seized your wife, Lucy, before your eyes, and pressed his foul kisses on her innocent face! Your blood would be up, I take it." "Adam, since I knew she was your wife I have almost held you justified." "To go on. Can you realize a _tithe_ of what it was for me on Portland Island!" "From the time you went there until I heard of your death, I never ceased to realize it in my own soul night or day." "Karl, I believe it. I remember what your sensitively tender nature always used to be. And we did care for each other, old fellow." "Ay, and _do_." "Well, compare that life I escaped from with this that I lead now. Here I am, so to say, a free man, at perfect liberty within these small bounds, my wife for my companion, my table at my command, master on my own estate, the revenues of which I divide with you that you may be the baronet to the world and keep up Foxwood. As fate has fallen, Karl, I could not be so happy anywhere as here." "I know; I know. But it is the risk I fear." "There must be some risk everywhere." "Answer me truly--as you would to your own heart, Adam. If by some miracle you could be transported safely to a far-off land, would you not feel more secure there than here?"