The buggy was yet in sight when Edward turned to his old friend and said:
"Gen. Evan, I have come to make a statement to you, based upon long reflection and a sense of justice. I am about to leave the state for France, and may never return. There are matters connected with my family which I feel you should know, and I prefer to speak rather than write them." He paused to collect his thoughts, the general looking straight ahead and recalling the conversation just had with Col. Montjoy. "If I seem to trespass on forbidden grounds or stir unpleasant memories, I trust you will hear me through before condemning me. Many years ago you lost a daughter——"
"Go on," said the general as Edward paused and looked doubtfully toward him.
"She was to have married my uncle, I am informed, but she did not. On the contrary, she married a foreigner—her music teacher. Is this not true?"
"Go on."
"She went abroad, but unknown to you she came back and her child was born."
"Ah." The sound that came from the old man's lips was almost a gasp. For the first time since the recital was begun he turned his eyes upon his companion.
"At this birth, which took place probably at Ilexhurst, possibly in the house of Rita Morgan, whose death you know of, occurred the birth of Rita's child also. Your daughter disappeared. Rita was delirious, and when she recovered could not be convinced that this child was not her own; and she thought him her son until the day of her death."
"Where is this child? Why was I not informed?" The old general's voice was hoarse and his words scarcely audible. Edward, looking him full in the face, replied:
"At Ilexhurst! His name, as we know it, is Gerald Morgan."