"You paint a pretty picture!" was the laughing answer; "but you do not know the Earl of Doncaster. There is about as much chance for my forgiveness, as there is for you to become King."
"A trifle overstated," returned Brandon; "there is no chance, whatever, of Parliament altering the succession in my favor."
"And no chance, whatever, of the Earl altering the judgment he has passed."
"You are hard to convince," said Brandon. "Yet why not make the effort? The family may be done with you, as he said, but, unless you offend again, the prosecution is not likely. Moreover, you must not overlook the fact, that there are only two lives between you and the title."
"Two lives, when I left England—with another coming, and a sister-in-law who promises to be as prolific as a rabbit. Oh, no! I have no chance for the title—my brother and his wife will take good care of that."
"Well, come with me, anyway," Brandon urged. "Granting all that you say, it is better than living under another man's name—and your father is not immortal. Or, if I cannot persuade you to return, then go to some other Colony, under your own name, or, at least, under no other man's, and settle down."
De Lysle laughed. "I like the danger of it, just as you liked the danger that was Long-Sword's."
"But, having come to my senses, I am going to get away from Long-Sword, and become, once more, a reputable member of society."
"You can go back—you have never, to society's knowledge, broken with her. You simply disappeared. Society knows me, however, for a criminal."
"Society has a short memory—she has forgotten, long ago."