I know about it. They never left me arter that.'

'Who was that man?'

'Tim Craig,' replied the woman.

'And he's dead. The only person who could reveal their place of
concealment during that year, and the name of those who had the care of
them. The chain is broken, by which to identify them as the lost children
of George Colton. Who can aid us in this?'

'I CAN!' said a voice.

All three started, for there, at their very elbow, stood Michael Rust; but
Rust, fearfully altered, worn down, wan, haggard, with sunken cheeks, and
features rigid and colorless, as if cut from wax, and with an eye of fire.
But wrecked as he was, there was still that strange sneering smile on his
lip, which seemed as if only parting to utter sarcasm and mockery. But now
he was serious in his mood, for he repeated:

'I can, and without my aid the secret must be hid forever.'

Holmes rose, angrily, from his seat.

'What brought _you_ here?' demanded he.

'Be seated, I beg of you,' said Rust, bowing, and speaking in a low,
mocking tone. 'What brought me here? _You_ called upon _me_, I think; it
was but civil to return the visit. I have come to do so.'

'This is idle, Sir,' replied Holmes, coldly. 'You came for some purpose.
Name it. The sooner this interview is over, the more agreeable I suppose
it will be for both of us.'

'For me, certainly,' said Rust, in a manner so constrained and different
from his usual one, that the lawyer was in doubt whether he was in jest or
earnest. Then he added, in a bitter tone: 'You ask what brought me here.
Destiny, folly, revenge perhaps against my own heart's blood. Call it what
you will; here I am; and ready to assist in the very matter which now
perplexes you. What more do you want?'

Holmes replied with a sarcastic smile: 'The assistance of Michael Rust is
likely to be as great as his sincerity. We certainly should place great
reliance on it.'

Rust, perfectly unmoved by the taunt, answered in a tone so bitter, so
full of hatred to himself, so replete with the outpouring of a cankered
heart, so despairing and reckless, that the lawyer felt that even in him
there might be some truth:

'I care not whether you trust me or not; I care not whether you believe me
or not. If Michael Rust could ever have been swayed by the opinions of
others, it would have been before this; it's too late to begin now. I came
here because I have failed in all I undertook; because I am beginning to
hate the one for whom