o do with him?"

Mr. Glascock whispered a few words to Sir Marmaduke, and then
declared that he was ready to be taken to the child. "And he will
remain here?" asked Trevelyan. A pledge was then given by Sir
Marmaduke that he would not force his way farther into the house,
and the two other men left the chamber together. Sir Marmaduke,
as he paced up and down the room alone, perspiring at every pore,
thoroughly uncomfortable and ill at ease, thought of all the hard
positions of which he had ever read, and that his was harder than
them all. Here was a man married to his daughter, in possession of
his daughter's child, manifestly mad,--and yet he could do nothing
to him! He was about to return to the seat of his government, and
he must leave his own child in this madman's power! Of course, his
daughter could not go with him, leaving her child in this madman's
hands. He had been told that even were he to attempt to prove the man
to be mad in Italy, the process would be slow; and, before it could
be well commenced, Trevelyan would be off with the child elsewhere.
There never was an embarrassment, thought Sir Marmaduke, out of which
it was so impossible to find a clear way.

In the meantime, Mr. Glascock and Trevelyan were visiting the child.
It was evident that the father, let him be ever so mad, had discerned
the expediency of allowing some one to see that his son was alive
and in health. Mr. Glascock did not know much of children, and could
only say afterwards that the boy was silent and very melancholy, but
clean, and apparently well. It appeared that he was taken out daily
by his father in the cool hours of the morning, and that his father
hardly left him from the time that he was taken up till he was put to
bed. But Mr. Glascock's desire was to see Trevelyan alone, and this
he did after they had left the boy. "And now, Trevelyan," he said,
"what do you mean to do?"

"To do?"

"In what way do you propose to live? I want you to be reasonable with
me."

"They do not treat me reasonably."

"Are you going to measure your own conduct by that of other people?
In the first place, you should go back to England. What good can you
do here?" Trevelyan shook his head, but remained silent. "You cannot
like this life."

"No, indeed. But whither can I go now that I shall like to live?"

"Why not home?"

"I have no home."

"Why not go back to England? Ask your wife to join you, and return
with her. She would go at a word.