Slowly, gradually, as he looked more closely at Kenneth the conviction grew stronger that this, indeed, was his brother, his own flesh and blood, yet it aroused within him no emotion and left him entirely cold. No impulse seized him to throw himself into this man's arms and embrace him. His heart was steeled against the world. Human affection and sympathy had dried up in his breast years ago. What he saw was not a kinsman, a brother, but a man who had succeeded in life where he had failed, a man who was rich and happy while he was poor and miserable, a man who had everything while he had nothing. And if the tale were true, if indeed, he were this rich man's brother, it only made matters worse, for he had been robbed of his rightful inheritance. This rich man was enjoying wealth half of which rightfully belonged to him.
Again Kenneth demanded:
"Where have you been all these years?"
"Here, there, everywhere," was the sullen answer. "London, Paris, Brussels, Vienna, New York, Boston, Chicago, Havana, Buenos Ayres. I know them all and they know me—perhaps too well. My earliest recollection is of the Italian quarter in New York, a long narrow always dirty street, bordered on either side by dilapidated greasy tenements, ricketty fire escapes filled with biddy and garbage. Pietro lived there and kept his organ in the basement cellar. When Pietro went out with the organ he took me along to excite sympathy. Until I was fifteen years old I begged to support Pietro. One day he beat me and I ran away and shipped as cabin boy on a sailing vessel bound for Liverpool. I reached London and found employment as stable boy at Ascot. There I learned the fatal fascination of gambling. With what I saved from my wages I bet on the horses. I won and won again. I went back to London and frequented the gambling houses. I won, always won. One day there was a row. Someone complained I had cheated. The police arrested me. When I left jail I went to the continent and began gambling again. I have gambled ever since." Pointing in the direction of the mines he added bitterly:
"That was my last gamble and I lost. That's all I have to tell."
Kenneth listened with keen interest. When the other stopped speaking he asked:
"And now—what will you do?"
Handsome shrugged his shoulders and made no answer. Kenneth went on:
"You can't keep up the old life—that is impossible. You owe something to the blood that's running in your veins. There is only one thing for you to do. You must break off with the past for good, and come home with me. Are you known in New York?"
Handsome shook his head.