"No; but he has been the tool of that villain, and I want him for a sort of state's evidence against his principal."
"Ah! I wish you joy of your adventure, Ishmael. It reminds one forcibly of the windmills," said Mr. Brudenell.
Ishmael laughed good-humoredly.
"I think it will do so, sir, when you find that the objects that you have been mistaking for giants are only windmills after all," he said.
"I do not understand you, my dear fellow."
Ishmael took from his breast-pocket the miniature of the Countess of
Hurstmonceux, and opening it and gazing upon it, he said:
"This is the likeness of the injured lady whose honor I have sworn to vindicate."
"Is it Claudia's?" inquired Mr. Brudenell, stretching his hand for it.
"No. it is not Lady Vincent's. Pardon me, upon second thoughts, sir. I wish to tell you this lady's story before I show you her portrait," answered Ishmael, shutting the case and returning it to his pocket.
Mr. Brudenell sat back, looking puzzled and attentive.