"You do not understand? But naturally. Let me explain. No: there is no
reason why Sybil--Mrs. Waring--should not hear. She is a dear friend of
long years, she understands."
With a quiet murmur--"Oh, quite!"--Mrs. Waring ran an affectionate arm
round Sofia's shoulders and gently held the girl to her.
"When I determined to forsake the bad old ways," Victor pursued--"this you
must know, my dear--I had friends--of a sort--who resented my defection,
set themselves against my will and, when they found they could not swerve
me from my purpose, became my enemies. That was long ago, but to this day
some of them persist in their enmity--I have to be constantly on my guard."
"You mean there is danger?" Sofia asked in quick anxiety. "Your life--?"
"Always," Victor assented, gravely. With a shrug he added: "It is nothing;
for myself, I am used to it, I do not greatly care. But for you--that is
another matter altogether. I have a great fear for you, my child. That,
indeed, is why I never tried to find you till yesterday--believing, as I
mistakenly did, you were in good hands, well cared for, happy--lest my
enemies seek to strike at me through you. But when I saw that unfortunate
advertisement I dared delay not another hour about bringing you within the
compass of my protection. Even now, untiring as my care for you shall ever
be, I know my enemies will be as tireless in endeavours to rob me of you.
You will be followed, hounded, importuned, lied to, threatened--all without
rest.
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