“Yes,” said Frank, while Bart bowed.
“I tell you who I am,” said the man. “Perhap’ you have heard ’bout me.”
He rose to his feet and stood there before them, looking proudly at them. There was in his pose now the manner of the born aristocrat. He smiled a little.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I am da Don Jose Maria Queypo de Llano Ruiz y de Saravia, of Spain!”
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MESSAGE RECOVERED.
Frank had heard of him, a Spanish refugee and outcast, a man of noble family, who had sacrificed himself and his fortune for what he firmly believed was right and justice.
“Count De Saravia!” exclaimed Frank.
“Yes,” said the man.
Then he told them much of his story, and Felicia, who had known nothing of it herself, sat and listened in wondering silence. But what the count told did not clear up the mystery that puzzled Frank.
After the supper was over, they returned to the living-room, where Merry opened the piano and played. Little Felicia sang for them, and finally she crept into her father’s arms and fell asleep. He carried her off to bed, and Merry and Bart turned and faced each other.