"Fain would I give you the proof you seek if it lay with me, but loyalty to one of the best of men keeps me silent! But it appears to me that the hour has struck for a different course of action from that which has hitherto been maintained," said Mr. Fyson, with a stern light coming into his eyes. "You have need to be disabused of some of your—hallucinations, shall I call them? I hope permission may be given me to let you know the truth. I am sorry for your sake it has been so long withheld. I shall communicate with you in due course. Meanwhile, I should like to call your attention again to the offer your good father has made. Will you agree to his terms? I have his commands to double your allowance if you will only cease from vices which he holds—and rightly—to be soul-ruining. Now, sir, I desire to bring this interview to a close," said Mr. Fyson, again rising, though his visitor still stood as if riveted to the spot.
The older man straightening himself put his hands in his pockets and bowed stiffly, then with a softened air he added:
"I would fain believe all good of you as your father's son. I hope it will be given to you to know him one day—and to know him will be to respect him as I have done for years."
Somehow, as these words fell on his ear, Rayner seemed to move mechanically to the door, and stood outside it as if in a dream. He made a gesture as if he would re-enter, but appeared to decide against the step. Clinging to the old banisters he walked slowly downstairs, and crossed the marble-floored hall, the soft-footed durwan opening the door for him noiselessly, he passed out to the busy street.
He walked a few paces with unsteady tread, forgetting that he meant to hire a carriage. The noonday sun was beating fiercely on his head, but in the tumult of his thoughts he did not heed it. His first sense of being completely foiled in his mission with Truelove Brothers was presently succeeded by a suggestion of a different kind.
"Why, this unknown pater of mine is evidently an important personage! He may turn out to be some big official—Lieutenant-Governor of a province or the like! The old merchant spoke of him with bated breath. What an idiot I am to be weighted down by a sense of failure! I've actually scored this morning after all. The old fool very nearly let the cat out of the bag though! If I had only hung about a moment longer I might have heard all. But I'll worm out the secret yet. A double allowance if I turn Methody! Ha, ha! Why, lacs of rupees are more likely my rightful portion!"
Remembering his promise to return to Ballygunge Road to tiffin, he decided to call a tikka-gharry, and was stepping into it when he was accosted by a young man with a cringing air whom he at once recognised as Mr. Fyson's Eurasian clerk.
"Beg pardon, sir, but a word with you for your own advantage!" he said, making salaams.
"Well, out with it! I'm in a hurry," said Mr. Rayner in an impatient tone.
"You see, sir, it's like this," began the man, putting his head to one side. "I couldn't help hearing your talk through the door. You and the master both havin' a kind of carryin' voice—not as I heard all your talk—but you want to know who your father is? Well, I can let you into thatt secret," he added, with a nod and a wink.