That name he will tell again, Sir John, to none but you.' 'To none but me!' exclaimed the knight, pausing in the act of raising his cup to his lips with a perfectly steady hand, and curling up his little finger for the better display of a brilliant ring with which it was ornamented: 'but me!--My dear Mr Varden, how very preposterous, to select me for his confidence! With you at his elbow, too, who are so perfectly trustworthy!' 'Sir John, Sir John,' returned the locksmith, 'at twelve tomorrow, these men die.

Hear the few words I have to add, and do not hope to deceive me; for though I am a plain man of humble station, and you are a gentleman of rank and learning, the truth raises me to your level, and I KNOW that you anticipate the disclosure with which I am about to end, and that you believe this doomed man, Hugh, to be your son.' 'Nay,' said Sir John, bantering him with a gay air; 'the wild gentleman, who died so suddenly, scarcely went as far as that, I think ?' 'He did not,' returned the locksmith, 'for she had bound him by some pledge, known only to these people, and which the worst among them respect, not to tell your name: but, in a fantastic pattern on the stick, he had carved some letters, and when the hangman asked it, he bade him, especially if he should ever meet with her son in after life, remember that place well.' 'What place ?' 'Chester.' The knight finished his cup of chocolate with an appearance of infinite relish, and carefully wiped his lips upon his handkerchief.
'Sir John,' said the locksmith, 'this is all that has been told to me; but since these two men have been left for death, they have conferred together closely.

See them, and hear what they can add.

See this Dennis, and learn from him what he has not trusted to me.

If you, who hold the clue to all, want corroboration (which you do not), the means are easy.' 'And to what,' said Sir John Chester, rising on his elbow, after smoothing the pillow for its reception; 'my dear, good-natured, estimable Mr Varden--with whom I cannot be angry if I would--to what does all this tend ?' 'I take you for a man, Sir John, and I suppose it tends to some pleading of natural affection in your breast,' returned the locksmith.