"Until recently, I should have had no fears myself. But connecting
one fact with another--his absence all night, nightly--the
stealthiness with which he departs from home after the family has
retired--the stealthiness with which he returns just before day--his
visible agitation when addressed--and, oh Clifford! worst of all
signs, the shrinking of his eye beneath mine and his mother's--the
fear to meet, and the effort to avoid us--these are the signs which
most pain me, and excite my apprehensions But look at his face and
figure also. The haggard misery of the one, sign of sleeplessness
and late watching--the attenuated feebleness of the other, showing
the effects of some practices, no matter of what particular sort,
which are undermining his constitution, and rapidly tending to
destroy him. If you but look in his eye as I have done, marking
its wildness, its wandering, its sensible expression of shame--you
can hardly fail to think with me that something is morally wrong.
He is guilty--"
"He is guilty!"
I echoed the words of the father, involuntarily. They struck the
chord of conviction in my own soul, and seemed to me the language
of a judgment.
"Ha! You know it, then?" cried the old man. "Speak! Tell me,
Clifford--what is his folly? What is the particular guilt and shame
into which he has fallen?"
I knew not that I had spoken until I heard these words. The
agitation of the father was greatly increased. Truly, his sorrows
were sad to look upon. I answered him:-"I simply echoed your words, sir--I am ignorant, as I said before;
and, indeed, I may venture, I think, with perfect safety, to assure
you that gaming and drink have nothing to do with his appearance
and deportment. I should rather suspect him of some improper--SOME
GUILTY CONNECTION--"
I felt that, in the utterance of these words, I too had become
excited. My voice did not rise, but I knew that it had acquired
an intenseness which I as quickly endeavored to suppress. But the
father had already beheld the expression in my face, and perhaps
the sudden change in my tones grated harshly upon his ear. I could
see that his looks became more eager and inquiring. I could note
a greater degree of apprehension and anxiety in his eyes. I subdued
myself, though not without some effort.
"William Edgerton may be erring, sir--that I do not deny, for I have
seen too little of him of late to say anything of his proceedings;
but I am very confident when I say that excess in liquor can not
be a vice of his; and as for gaming, I should fancy that he was the
last person in the world likely to be tempted to the indulgence of
such a practice."
The father shook his head mournfully.
"Why this shame?--this fear? Besides, Clifford, what we know of
our son makes us equally sure that women have nothing to do with
his excesses. But these conjectures help us nothing. Clifford, I
must look to you."