Without you will make a full and satisfactory apology to me for such intemperate language, and ask his pardon, you may dread my just displeasure." "Ask his pardon!" I cried; almost choking with passion--"for what?
For his treating me like a menial and a slave!--Never, Mr.Moncton, never!" My uncle regarded me with the same icy glance which froze my blood when a child, while I recapitulated my wrongs, with all the eloquence which passion gives--passion which makes even the slow of speech act the part of an orator.
He listened to me with a smile of derision.
Carried beyond the bounds of prudence, I told him, that I would no longer be subjected to such degrading tyranny; that his deceitful conduct had cancelled all ties of obligation between us; that the favours lately conferred upon me, I now saw had only been bestowed to effect my ruin; that he had been acting a base and treacherous game with me to further his own dishonest views; that I was fully aware of his motives, and appreciated them as they deserved; that he well knew the story of my illegitimacy was a forgery, that I had the means to prove it one, and would do it shortly; that the term of my articles would expire on the following day, and I would then leave his house for ever and seek my own living.
"You may do so to-day," he replied, in the same cool sarcastic tone; and unlocking his desk he took out the indentures.
A sudden terror seized me.

Something in his look threatened danger: I drew a quicker breath, and advanced a few paces nearer.
All my hopes were centered in that sheet of parchment, to obtain which, I had endured seven years of cruel bondage.

"No, no," said I, mentally, "he cannot be such a villain--he dare not do it!" The next moment the fatal scroll lay torn and defaced at my feet.

A cry of despair burst from my lips: I sprang forward, and with one blow laid him senseless at my feet, and fled from the house.
I saw Robert Moncton but once again.

Recollection shudders when I recall that dreadful meeting.
I walked rapidly down the street, perfectly unconscious that I was without my hat, and that the rain was falling in torrents; or that I was an object of curiosity to the passers-by.
Some one caught my arm.
I turned angrily round to shake off the intruder--it was my friend Harrison.
"In the name of Heaven! Geoffrey, tell me what has happened?
What is the matter--are you in your right senses?
Have you quarrelled with your uncle?
Let me return with you to the house," were questions he asked in a breath.
"_My uncle!_ he is an infernal scoundrel!" I exclaimed, throwing out my clenched hand, and hurrying on still faster.