Page:What will he do with it.djvu/433

Rh "The convict? He called himself Chapman, but the son's name was Losely—Jasper."

"Ah!" faltered Darrell, recoiling, " and you spoke of a little girl?"

"Jasper Losely's daughter; he came after her with a magis- trate's warrant. The old miscreant had carried her off, to teach her his own swindling ways, I suppose. Luckily she was then in my charge. I gave her back to her father, and the ver}- re- spectable-looking lady he brought with him. Some relation, I presume?"

"What was her name, do you remember?"

"Crane."

"Crane! Crane!" muttered Darrell, as if trying in vain to tax his memory with that name. " So he said the child was his daughter—are you sure?"

"Oh, of course he said so, and the lady too. But can you be acquainted with them. Sir?"

"I? no! Strangers to me except by repute. Liars—infamous liars! But have the accomplices quarrelled—I mean the son and father—that the father should be exposed and denounced by the son?"

"I conclude so. I never saw them again. But you believe the father really was, then, a felon, a convict—no excuse for him—no extenuating circumstances? There was something in that man, Mr. Darrell, that made one love him—positivelv love him; and when I had to tell him that I had given up the child he trusted to my charge, and saw his grief, I felt a criminal my- self."

Darrell said nothing, but the character of his face was en- tirely altered—stern, hard, relentless—the face of an inexorable judge. Hartopp, lifting his eyes suddenly to that countenance, recoiled in awe.

"You think I was a criminal!" he said, piteously.

"I think we are both talking too much, Mr. Hartopp, of a gang of miserable swindlers, and I advise you to dismiss the whole remembrance of intercourse with any of them from your honest breast, and never repeat to other ears the tale you have poured into mine. Men of honor should crush down the very thought that approaches them to knaves!"

Thus saying, Darrell moved off with abrupt rudeness, and passing quickly back through the crowd, scarcely noticed Mrs. Haughton by a retreating nod, nor heeded Lionel at all, but hurried down the stairs. He was impatiently searching for his cloak in the back parlor, when a voice behind said, " Let