face an index even to your mind—you, Edward Leeford, do you brave me still!"
"No, no, no!" returned the coward, overwhelmed by these accumulated charges.
"Every word!" cried the old gentleman, "every word that has passed between you and this detested villain, is known to me. Shadows on the wall have caught your whispers, and brought them to my ear; the sight of the persecuted child has turned vice itself and given it the courage and almost the attributes of virtue. Murder has been done, to which you were morally if not really a party."
"No, no," interposed Monks. "I—I—know nothing of that; I was going to inquire the truth of the story when you overtook me. I didn't know the cause, I thought it was a common quarrel."
"It was the partial disclosure of your secrets," replied Mr. Brownlow. "Will you disclose the whole?"
"Yes, I will."
"Set your hand to a statement of truth and facts, and repeat it before witnesses?"
