"We might bring it home to him."
Charles mused for a moment. "We shall have nothing against him," he said slowly, "except in so far as we can swear to his identity. And that may be difficult."
Just at that moment the footman brought in tea. Charles wondered apparently whether the man, who had been with us at Seldon when Colonel Clay was David Granton, would recollect the face or recognise having seen it. "Look here, Dudley," he said, holding up the water-colour, "do you know that person?"
Dudley gazed at it a moment. "Certainly, sir," he answered briskly.
"Who is it?" Amelia asked. We expected him to answer, "Count von Lebenstein," or "Mr. Granton," or "Medhurst."
Instead of that, he replied, to our utter surprise, "That's Césarine's young man, my lady."
"Césarine's young man?" Amelia repeated, taken aback. "Oh, Dudley, surely, you must be mistaken!"
"No, my lady," Dudley replied, in a tone of conviction. "He comes to see her quite reg'lar; he have come to see her, off and on, from time to time, ever since I've been in Sir Charles's service."
"When will he be coming again?" Charles asked, breathless.
"He's downstairs now, sir," Dudley answered, unaware of the bombshell he was flinging into the midst of a respectable family.