Poor boy! poor, unfortunate boy! If Kate and I were to desert him, he would be lost indeed." "This is all Greek to me," said Stanford, coldly.

"If the man be what you say, a murderer, nothing can excuse Miss Danton's conduct." "Listen, Reginald, my dear boy--almost my son; listen, and you will have nothing but pity for the poor man upstairs, and deeper love for my noble daughter.

But, first, have I your word of honour that what I tell you shall remain a secret ?" Reginald bowed.
"Three years ago, this young man, whose name is not Richards," began Captain Danton, "ran away from home, and began life on his own account.
He had been a wilful, headstrong, passionate boy always, but yet loving and generous.

He fled from his friends, in a miserable hour of passion, and never returned to them any more; for the sick, sinful, broken-down, wretched man who returned was as different from the hot-headed, impetuous, happy boy, as day differs from night.
"He fled from home, and went to New York.

He was, as I am, a sailor; he had command of a vessel at the age of nineteen; but he gave up the sea, and earned a livelihood in that city for some months by painting and selling water-colour sketches, at which he was remarkably clever.
Gradually his downward course began.