remained silent." He then briefly recounted the story of his
finding Slinn's letter, his exhibition of it to the invalid, its
disastrous effect upon him, and his innocent discovery of the
contents. "I believed myself at that time on the eve of being
allied with your family, Senor Mulrady," he said, haughtily; "and
when I found myself in the possession of a secret which affected
its integrity and good name, I did not choose to leave it in the
helpless hands of its imbecile owner, or his sillier children, but
proposed to trust it to the care of the Senora, that she and you
might deal with it as became your honor and mine. I followed her
to Paris, and gave her the letter there. She affected to laugh at
any pretension of the writer, or any claim he might have on your
bounty; but she kept the letter, and, I fear, destroyed it. You
will understand, Senor Mulrady, that when I found that my
attentions were no longer agreeable to your daughter, I had no
longer the right to speak to you on the subject, nor could I,
without misapprehension, force her to return it. I should have
still kept the secret to myself, if I had not since my return here
made the nearer acquaintance of Senor Esslinn's daughters. I
cannot present myself at his house, as a suitor for the hand of the
Senorita Vashti, until I have asked his absolution for my
complicity in the wrong that has been done to him. I cannot, as a
caballero, do that without your permission. It is for that purpose
I am here."

It needed only this last blow to complete the humiliation that
whitened Mulrady's face. But his eye was none the less clear and
his voice none the less steady as he turned to Don Caesar.

"You know perfectly the contents of that letter?"