Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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“‘I cannot,’ he said, shaking me off, ‘my heart is on fire and I am nearly mad. That man—that man—and I harboured him here.’”

“‘What man?’ I asked in astonishment.

“‘Rowton,’ he said, ‘Adrian Rowton; I have harboured him here and made a friend of him! Ah, but I shall track him down yet.’

“I felt myself turning quite faint with astonishment and an unaccountable sense of terror.

“‘Father,’ I said, ‘you must be mad.’

“‘No,’ he answered, ‘not mad, but my suspicions are aroused. Good heaven! that I should have harboured that man here!’

“Then he pulled himself together, and tried to speak quietly. ‘Nancy,’ he said, ‘listen to me. My suspicions are aroused—the man who calls himself Adrian Rowton is never to come here again.’

“‘You cannot mean it,’ I said.

“‘I can and do,’ he replied. ‘He is never to darken these doors again. Why, what is the matter?’ he exclaimed, for I was trembling and the tears were running down my cheeks.

“‘It is only that I love Adrian Rowton better than anyone else in all the world,’ I replied.