“How do you know he is not?”
“Because, according to your own account, Launcelot was in India in the year ’53.”
“Yes, they say that he was there.”
“Have you any reason to doubt the fact?” asked Richard.
“Yes,” answered Eleanor. “When Mr. Darrell first returned to Hazlewood, Laura Mason was very anxious to hear all about what she called his ‘adventures’ in India. She asked him a great many questions, and I remember—I cannot tell you, Dick, how carelessly I listened at the time, though every word comes back to me now as vividly as if I had been a prisoner, on trial for my life, listening breathlessly to the evidence of the witnesses against me—I remember now how obstinately Launcelot Darrell avoided all Laura’s questions, telling her at last, almost rudely, to change the subject. The next day Mr. Monckton came to us, and he talked about India; and Mr. Darrell again avoided the question in the same sullen, disagreeable manner. You may think me weak and foolish, Richard, and I dare say I am so; but Mr. Monckton is a very clever man. He could not be easily deceived.”
“But what of him?”
“He said, ‘Launcelot Darrell has a secret; and that secret is connected with his Indian experiences.’ I thought very little of this at the time, Dick: but I think I understand it now.”
“Indeed! And the young man’s secret——?”
“Is that he never went to India.”
“Eleanor!”