But in a moment he had scorned the craven argument of flight, and determined that come what might he would face his son, and lay the truth before him, leaving him to judge how strong fate had been.

As he lay feverish and fretful in the vessel's cabin, he came well-nigh to hating Kenneth; he remembered him only as a poor, mean creature, now a bigot, now a fop, now a psalm-monger, now a roysterer, but ever a hypocrite, ever a coward, and never such a man as he could have taken pride in presenting as his offspring.
They had a fair wind, and towards evening Cynthia, who had been absent from his side a little while, came to tell him that the coast of France grew nigh.
His answer was a sigh, and when she chid him for it, he essayed a smile that was yet more melancholy.

For a second he was tempted to confide in her; to tell her of the position in which he found himself and to lighten his load by sharing it with her.

But this he dared not do.
Cynthia must never know..