whispered Hartopp, in great alarm, "if Mrs. H. should hear you! What an observer you are, sir. I thought I was a judge of character--but I was once deceived. I dare say you never were."
"You mistake," answered Darrell, wincing, "you deceived! How?"
"Oh, a long story, sir. It was an elderly man--the most agreeable, interesting companion--a vagabond nevertheless--and such a pretty bewitching little girl with him, his grandchild. I thought he might have been a wild harumscarum chap in his day, but that he had a true sense of honour"--(Darrell, wholly uninterested in this narrative, suppressed a yawn, and wondered when it would end).
"Only think, sir, just as I was saying to myself, 'I know character--I never was taken in,' down comes a smart fellow--the man's own son--and tells me--or rather he suffers a lady who comes with him to tell me--that this charming old gentleman of high sense of honour was a returned convict--been transported for robbing his employer."
Pale, breathless, Darrell listened, not unheeding now. "What was the name of--of--"
"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 magistrate'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 very respectable-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 their, 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
