When I concluded, he grasped my hand firmly, muttering to himself-- "It is like him--just like him.

The infernal scoundrel!" "What do you know about him ?" said I, astonished at the excited state into which my revelations had thrown him.
"Only _too_ much," he responded, with a heavy sigh; and sinking back in his chair, pressed his hands to his head, like one who wished to shut out painful recollections, while I continued to grasp his arm and stare at him in blank amazement.

At length, rousing himself, he said with a faint smile,-- "Don't make big eyes at me, Geoffrey.

I cannot tell you all you wish to know.

At some other time, and in some other place, I will repay the confidence you have reposed in me, and satisfy your queries; but not here--not in the lion's den." "For heaven's sake! don't keep silent now," I cried.