“He’s my second half, uncle,” interposed the young man, smiling. “It isn’t everybody who can have such a good one, you know.”
“Is that the truth, Oscar?” demanded the older man. “Has he been passing himself off for you all this time?”
“Exactly, and he did it wonderfully well, too. I owe him an everlasting debt——”
The sentence was never finished. As he stood there, unable to make head or tail of what was being said, Barry had a horrible conviction that somehow his curiosity was never going to be gratified. He had come as close as this several times before to learning the name of the man he so resembled, and he was determined to take no more chances.
“My dear fellow,” he burst out, unable longer to contain himself, “if you owe me anything at all, for Heaven’s sake pay me now by telling me who on earth you are.”
“You mean to say you do not know!” exclaimed the older man incredulously. “Why, such a thing is preposterous.”
The laughter vanished suddenly from the nephew’s face, and, stepping swiftly forward, he caught Barry’s hand in a firm grip.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Lawrence,” he said contritely. “I’ve been fearfully discourteous. Please forgive me, and do not think me ungrateful for what you have done. I am Prince Oscar, of Ostrau, and this is my uncle, the Grand Duke Frederick.”
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE RIDDLE SOLVED.
In the brief silence which followed there came to Barry’s ears the sound of a quick gasp, followed by a strangled sob, from the girl at the table. And in that second, as he stood holding his own hand, as it were, and gazing into his own eyes, he realized with a rush of joy that this was what had troubled Shirley. They had told her that he was the crown prince of an Old World kingdom, and it was small wonder she had been dismayed.