“Yes; I thought I was too fortunate, and had some compunction in taking so large an income, fearing lest I might be robbing some relative of my benefactor more entitled to it. When I buried my adopted father at Damascus, I came to England and saw his lawyers, who were quite satisfied with my identity, owing to the papers which I produced. The will, of course, was in their possession, as my benefactor had returned to England when I was at school, and made his will in my favor. The lawyers told me that there were no relatives alive, and that I was justly entitled to spend the money, so that is how I became rich. The rest of my life you know.”
“You published a volume of poems, became the mystery of London, saw Eunice, fell in love with her, and came down to the Grange—yes, I know all that; but have you made no effort to discover who you are?”
“Yes. I went to Melnos three years ago and saw Justinian, but he refused to help me in any way; so I returned to England in despair. Now, however, I am going back with certain knowledge of Justinian’s past life, which I will make use of to force him to tell me what I wish to know.”
“You don’t believe his story about your illegitimacy?”
“No. If I can get the truth out of him I believe I will find I have a right to a legal surname, and I am anxious to establish this fact in order to marry Eunice. As it is, I cannot marry her without inflicting on her the disgrace I feel myself; besides, her mother would not consent to the marriage, nor would you.”
“My dear fellow, I am not so narrow-minded as all that.”
“Still, I know your English prejudices. You say that out of kindness, but if your cousin marries, you would prefer her husband to have a spotless name.”
“Certainly.”
“Then I am going to make Justinian give me one. I know, if he tells the truth, I will discover I have been born in wedlock. Of his own free will he refuses to tell me; now, however, owing to my knowledge of his past, I can force his confidence.”
“And what about Helena?”