CHAPTER XXV.
RETRIBUTION.
Monckton, during his long imprisonment at Dartmoor, came under many chaplains, and he was popular with them all; because when they inquired into the state of his soul he represented it as humble, penitent, and purified.

Two of these gentlemen were High-Church, and he noticed their peculiarities: one was a certain half-musical monotony in speaking which might be called by a severe critic sing-song.

Perhaps they thought the intoning of the service in a cathedral could be transferred with advantage to conversation.
So now, to be strictly in character, this personage not only dressed High-Church, but threw a sweet musical monotony into the communication he made to Colonel Clifford.
And if the reader will compare this his method of speaking with the matter of his discourse, he will be sensible of a singular contrast.
After the first introduction, Monckton intoned very gently that he had a communication to make on the part of a lady which was painful to him, and would be painful to Colonel Clifford; but, at all events, it was confidential, and if the Colonel thought proper, would go no further.
"I think, sir, you have a son whose name is Walter ?" "I have a son, and his name is Walter," said the Colonel, stiffly.
"I think, sir," said musical Monckton, "that he left your house about fourteen years ago, and you lost sight of him for a time ?" "That is so, sir." "He entered the service of a Mr.Robert Bartley as a merchant's clerk." "I doubt that, sir." "I fear, sir," sighed Monckton, musically, "that is not the only thing he did which has been withheld from you.

He married a lady called Lucy Muller." "Who told you that ?" cried the Colonel.

"It's a lie!" "I am afraid not," said the meek and tuneful ecclesiastic.