“Ah, you should have had faith in me, my Robin!”
“I had, sir — in your ingenuity.”
My lord shook a finger. “I saw from the outset that you doubted. I might have convinced you. I chose rather to confound you, as I do now.”
Robin blinked. “Let me have a plain answer, sir. Is this all a trick, or are you Tremaine?”
“Of course I am Tremaine,” said his lordship, with a calmness more convincing than all his heroics.
Robin turned his head to stare. He drew a deep breath. “Give me time, sir. You have certainly confounded me. I confess, I thought it a trick.”
My lord laughed in gentle triumph. “I am always an unknown quantity, my Robin. You should have thought of that. But if I were not in very truth Tremaine of Barham — which I am — I should stand precisely where I stand today. Therein lies my greatness. Believe it!”
“Oh, I do, sir. I’m of the opinion you might be King of England if you choose.”
My lord considered this. “It is possible, my son,” he said seriously. “I do not say that it would be altogether beyond my powers. But there would be difficulties — great difficulties.”
“Lord, let’s remain content as we are!” said Robin, alarmed. “I’m satisfied, sir.”