you quite well and strong again."

And as Ricardo pronounced the last words he rose, with the evident
intention of going.

"One moment, please," I said hastily; "pray do not go just yet. You
have been doing all the talking thus far, now I wish to say a word or
two."

"By all means," he answered with a laugh, as he resumed his seat. "Say
on. I promise you my very best attention."

But, now that it came to the point, I suddenly found myself hesitating;
I had spoken upon the spur of the moment, with a very definite purpose
in my mind, but quite unexpectedly I found myself entirely at a loss for
words. At length, seeing Ricardo's look of surprise at my hesitation, I
plunged desperately _in medias res_.

"Look here," I stammered, "I--that is to say--oh, hang it, I find it
very difficult to know how to begin! I want very particularly to say
something to you, and I want to say it, if I can, without hurting your
feelings--"

Ricardo laughed grimly. "Say on, without fear," he remarked; "don't
stop to pick and choose your words. In my time I have been compelled to
listen to words that have seared my very soul, words that drove me
desperate, and made me what I am. You can scarcely have anything to say
that will hurt me more keenly than I have been hurt already; moreover, I
have now grown callous, so say on without fear."

The intense and concentrated bitterness with which he uttered those last
few words gave me courage; moreover, I felt certain that my companion
would recognise the kindly feeling which actuated me, so without more
ado I proceeded:

"What I wish to say is this. You have somehow contrived to convey to my
mind the impression that you are a very deeply injured man, that you
have been driven to the adoption of your present mode of life by some
great and terrible wrong; moreover, you have been kind to Lotta, and
especially kind to me; and, lastly, your references to your former
friendship with my mother have been such that it has been impossible for
me to avoid feeling very deeply interested in you. Now, why should you
not abandon your present mode of life? You say that you possess
treasure which has come into your possession by perfectly honest means,
and to which, to use your own words, you have as much right as anybody.
Why not take that treasure then, and go away to some part of the world
where you are not known, and there begin life afresh?"

"Ah!" said Ricardo, "I have asked myself that quest