"One moment, Colonel, before you decide," I said. "You feel, no doubt, that my offer is almost, if not quite an impertinence; believe me, I anticipated that view, I have therefore to confess to misinforming you. I am not an Englishman; although brought up there, I, like yourself, am a Rudarlian. This is my first visit to my country since my babyhood; now you see why your words yesterday had so much effect upon me."
He looked at me a trifle suspiciously.
"Stevens is not a Rudarlian name," he said.
"No," broke in Mr. Neville, "but Stefan is, I believe."
"So! you have astonished me, monsieur. You were taken away as a baby, you say?"
"I think so, I am not quite sure."
"If you will pardon my interrupting, Colonel," said my companion, "but Monsieur Stefan knows little of his birth or childhood. There are reasons, grave reasons, why he should remain in ignorance until his majority in a few months' time. I, however, give you my word that he is a Rudarlian by birth."
"I did not doubt it, monsieur. I was staggered for the moment at the idea of anyone making such a proposal; even now, that I know him to be my countryman, I do not see my way to accept his offer."
"May I ask why?" I said despondently. "I had hoped so much to do something for our army."
"Think, Monsieur Stefan, how could it be explained that I, a penniless man, had accepted money to pay my troops? They would say immediately that my nest was feathered too, and what reason do you suppose would be accredited to the gift? Why, to buy their loyalty."