"Nothing," I said, with an effort to keep my voice steady. "I will tell you what I want. Years ago a great wrong was done to a very close and dear relative of mine here in Pesth. I came here to seek justice for his name—for he was left to die in shameful exile, with the wrong unrighted."
"I looked for anything but that; but I'd do more than that for you, much more. Who and what was he?"
He had no suspicion of the truth yet; and when I paused, he misunderstood my hesitation.
"You don't doubt me?"
"No; but——" I hesitated; and then there came another sound from without. A hand pushed the window frame; and this time Karl heard it.
"What was that?" he asked, and rose from the couch.
"The wind—nothing else."
"There's no wind," he said. "I'll see."
I put myself between him and the window. "No, don't open it. I'll"—I started and stopped abruptly. I saw something lying on the sofa.
It was just a wisp of faded ribbon. But it was the favour which he had begged of me that night years ago in New York. So he carried it with him always. The colour left my face and I caught my breath.