“Well, you would not have me risk all my hard earnings in Athens, would you? A commercial crisis, a revolution, a war, and where would my money be; while London, though liable to social depression, is at least safe as regards the other two contingencies. No! year after year, I have sent my money to England, and now Melnos has an assured income which would keep her going, even though she earned nothing for many years.”
“And have you been to England since you settled here?”
“Yes,” replied the Demarch, with a half sigh. “I went once, in order to arrange about the safe investment of my Melnosian moneys, and remained in London some months. When I returned, I brought back your mother, Crispin, and you.”
“My mother!” echoed Crispin, with a deep flush; “and her name?”
“I cannot tell you that now,” answered Justinian, a trifle sadly; “but when all these troubles are over, I will do so.”
“Why not now?”
“I have a reason for not doing so.”
Crispin did not like this further putting off, but he knew Justinian was iron when once he had made up his mind, so submitted to the further procrastination of the important secret with a sufficiently good grace, although he made one objection.
“You might be killed in the mean time.”
“If that happens, you will find all papers necessary to establish your legitimacy with my London solicitors. You think I am harsh and unkind, Crispin, in not telling you what you wish to know now, but, when I reveal all, you will see I have a good reason for my not doing so. One thing I can comfort you with, however,—your father is alive, and I will restore you to his arms.”