"Yes, the name of that young man—it is not Strangways, that was a falsehood; his name, sir, is Guy Deverell!"
And saying this Lady Alice, after her wont, wept passionately.
"That is perfectly true, Lady Alice; but I don't see what value that information can have, apart from the explanatory particulars I promised to tell you; but not for a few days. If, however, you desire it, I shall postpone the disclosure no longer. You will, I am sure, first be so good as to tell me, though, whether anyone but you knows that the foolish young man's name is Deverell?"
"No; no one, except Beatrix, not a creature. She was present, but has been, at my request, perfectly silent," answered Lady Alice, eagerly, and gaped darkly at Varbarriere, expecting his revelation.
M. Varbarriere thought, under the untoward circumstances, that a disclosure so imperfect as had been made to Lady Alice was a good deal more dangerous than one a little fuller. He therefore took that lady's hand very reverentially, and looking with his full solemn eyes in her face, said—
"It is not only true, madam, that his name is Guy Deverell, but equally true that he is the lawful son, as well as the namesake, of that Guy Deverell, your son, who perished by the hand of Sir Jekyl Marlowe in a duel. Shot down foully, as that Mr. Strangways avers who was his companion, and who was present when the fatal event took place."
"Gracious Heaven, sir! My son married?"
"Yes, madam, married more than a year before his death. All the proofs are extant, and at this moment in England."
"Married! my boy married, and never told his mother! Oh, Guy, Guy, Guy is it credible?"
"It is not a question, madam, but an absolute certainty, as I will show you whenever I get the papers to Wardlock."