"What has Brian Luttrell done," asked the Prior, "that he should be ashamed of his own name?"
"Ashamed!" said Brian, haughtily; "I never for one moment said that I was ashamed of it; but——"
He turned in his chair and looked out of the window. A new thought occurred to him. Probably Padre Cristoforo knew the history of every one who had lived in San Stefano during the last few years. Perhaps he might assist Brian in his search for the truth. At any rate, as Padre Cristoforo already knew his name, it would do nobody any harm if he confided in him a little further, and told him something of the story which Mrs. Luttrell had told to him.
Meanwhile, Padre Cristoforo watched him keenly as a cat watches a mouse, though without the malice of a cat. The Prior wished Brian no harm. But, for the good of his Order, he wished very much that he could lay hands, either through Brian or through Dino, upon that fine estate of which he had dreamt for the last thirteen years.
"Father Cristoforo," Brian's haggard, dark eyes looked anxiously into the priest's subtilely twinkling orbs, "will you tell me how you learnt my true name?"
He could not bear to cast a doubt upon Dino's good faith, and the Prior divined his reason for the question.
"Rest assured, my dear sir, that I learnt it accidentally," he said, with a soothing smile. "I happened to be entering the door when our young friend Dino recognised you. I heard you tell him to call you by the name of Stretton; I also heard you say that Brian Luttrell was dead."
"Ah!" sighed Brian, scarcely above his breath. "I thought that Dino could not have betrayed me."
He did not mean the Prior to hear his words; but they were heard and understood. "Signor," said the Padre, with an inflection of hurt feeling in his voice, "Mr. Stretton, or Mr. Luttrell, however you choose to term yourself, Dino is a man of honour, and will never betray a trust reposed in him. I could answer for Dino with my very life."
"I know—I was sure of it!" cried Brian.