“The day you paid that early visit to the bank, sir, the day Mrs. Sylvester died.”
The frown on Mr. Sylvester’s brow grew deeper. “The day—” he began, and stopped.
“Excuse me, sir,” exclaimed Hopgood with a burst. “I ought not to have mentioned it, but you asked me when , and I—”
“What was this discovery?” inquired his superior, imperatively.
“Nothing much,” murmured the other now all in a cold sweat. “But I felt as if I ought to tell you. You have been my benefactor, sir, I can never forget what you have done for me and mine. If I saw death or bereavement between me and any favor I could do for you, sir, I would not hesitate to risk them. I am no talker, sir, but I am true and I am grateful.” He stopped, choked, and his eyes rolled frightfully. Mr. Sylvester looked at him, grew a trifle pale, and put the little child