For some moments Manton remained silent. Gilbert believed that at last he was about to admit his identity.
"I will tell you my history for the past three months, sir," said the young man.
"I shall respect your confidence," Gilbert answered.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but my name is really Manton, and, as you guessed when I came into the office, I have been in the army before. I was at Scarthoe Head, Battery A. I was a sergeant, and, being a public school man, was made book-keeper to the acting adjutant." He fell into silence again, and went on after a pause. "Something went wrong in regard to the delivery of stores to the fort. There was a hundred and forty-five pounds deficit in the accounts. I was held responsible, sir."
There was an intensity and a genuineness in the ring of the stranger's voice that gripped Gilbert's attention. He listened with the closest attention, and as Manton narrated in detail his life during the past six months, Gilbert's convictions faded and gradually vanished. It was impossible that the man could have invented the story, a story so easy of verification. It was some time, however, before he let Manton perceive his change of view; then he drew in a deep breath.
"Gad!" he exclaimed, "then you are not Treves after all!"
"No, sir."
"Go on with your story."
Manton obediently resumed his discourse, bringing his history down to that afternoon and his visit to the recruiting office.
"It's amazing!" exclaimed Gilbert. "I could have sworn—— But, after all," he went on, as if communing with himself, "there's something in your eyes that's different."