I was alone in my study, that room which had been my nursery; and I sat by the window wondering, for I had heard as though in a dream that my stepfather had been an enormously wealthy man, and had bequeathed me all. How much it was the solicitor could not tell me, but in England alone he had invested something over ten millions of pounds, and I understood that there was more than that sum invested about the world. It was stupendous, and though I did not realise it, although I did not understand what my power in the world would be, I groaned at thought of the endless labour such a vast inheritance would involve.
Heart-sick and weary, I looked out over the sunlit river and recalled the events of the last few days, sorrowing at the thought that I could never discuss with my stepfather those things of which I had been full: our meeting with Quarovitch, the incident of the brigands, my fight with Goltz, and finally my little friend of the riverside, the girl whose name even I did not know.
My stepfather's last words came to my mind: "God save your Majesty!" What could they mean? I supposed that it was some memory of the past, for I knew he had been in the diplomatic service.
There was a tap at the door, and Mr. Neville entered. My stepfather's death had affected him very much, for a great friendship existed between the two. He came to me and placed his hand upon my shoulder.
"Victor, my dear boy, I hate to disturb you, but your mother has asked me to fetch you; it appears that the time has come when you are to be told all those things which have so puzzled you. It seems hard that it should have come just now, but who knows? It may be for the best. Your future may offer many hard and hateful features; but when it is a case of duty, you, I know, can be depended on. Always remember that you will have people who love you to help and direct you, and over them all is our Maker."
We descended together; but, when we came to the door of the room where my mother and Mr. Smith were sitting, he turned and would not have entered, had not my mother insisted upon his being present. I bent to kiss her as I passed, and her arms went round my neck, as she returned the caress, murmuring:
"My boy, my dear boy."
I sat down on a low settee by her side, and waited for her to speak.
Inwardly, I was a mass of nerves. I had waited so long to hear all I was now to be told; I felt strangely nervous, as though evil was coming. How would the revelations affect my life?
"I think you had better speak, Count," said my mother.