For answer, Kenneth removed his helmet, suddenly revealing the solitary lock of white hair. Handsome fell back in surprise. For the first time he realized the extraordinary resemblance. He had noticed a marked likeness before, but now the diamond promoter's helmet was off, it was positively startling. Hoarsely he exclaimed:
"The devil! Who are you? You look just like——"
Kenneth looked at him keenly for a moment. Then he said calmly:
"Yes—I look just like you. No wonder. You are—my brother!"
"Yes, you are my brother. We are twins."
"Your brother?"
"Yes—my brother. We are twins. You were kidnapped by gypsies thirty-two years ago. Our old nurse told me the story for the first time the day before I sailed from New York. She also told me about that scar on your hand. You cut it badly when you were a year old and the scar has remained ever since. Everybody believed you dead. Where have you been all these years?"
Handsome made no answer but fell back a few steps, and passed his hand over his brow as if bewildered. This astonishing revelation had been made so suddenly that it had left him dazed. A wild, improbable tale, it seemed, yet perhaps there was some truth in it. He had never known who his parents were and it had always seemed to him that he came of better stock than those with whom he associated. Then again, there was the ridiculous likeness. One had only to look at them both—it was the same face.