Again Brian's face changed colour.
"My father's son?" he repeated, vaguely. The coins fell to the ground; he sat up and looked at the Prior suspiciously. "What do you know about my father?" he said. "What do you know about me?"
The Prior pushed back his chair. A little smile played upon his shrewd, yet kindly face. The Englishman was easier to manage than he had expected to find him, and Father Cristoforo was unquestionably relieved in his mind.
"I do not know much about you," he said, "but I have reason to believe that your name is not Stretton—that you were recently travelling under the name of Brian Luttrell, and that you have a special interest in the village of San Stefano. Is that not true, my friend?"
"Yes," said Brian slowly. "It is true."
CHAPTER XIV.
THE PRIOR'S OPINION.
The Prior's face wore an expression of mild triumph. He was evidently prepared to be questioned, and was somewhat surprised when Brian turned to him gravely and addressed him in cold and serious tones.
"Reverend Father," he said, "I am ignorant of the way in which you have possessed yourself of my secret, but, before a word more is spoken, let me tell you at once that it is a secret which must be kept strictly and sacredly between ourselves, unless great trouble is to ensue. It is absolutely necessary now that Brian Luttrell should be—dead."