“Didn't discover it until after I had left him last night; then I put two and two together and made four.”
“Oh, I can hardly believe it.”
“I never lie.”
“Never?”
“I mean on serious matters. And you needn't cry about it, Miss Ruey. I do not purpose being the bearer of welcome news and having my breakfast ruined for my reward.”
She reached across the little table and squeezed his big brown hand impulsively. “You're the most wonderful man I ever knew. And does my poor brother know I am living, Mr. Webster?”
“No—and I'm not going to tell him. I think it will be much nicer to restore you to each other on the steps of the government palace on the day when the Ruey faction comes into its own again. That will make his victory all the sweeter. I am the innocent bystander who started this little drama, and by jingo, I want to finish it. Why, it has been years and years since I've had any real sport.”
“You're so kind!”
“Not at all. My discovery of your brother was as accidental as falling downstairs.” And he related to her his interview with Ricardo, whose statements, when compared with the information gleaned from Mother Jenks, had proved so illuminating. “By the way,” he continued, “where was Ricardo when your father's ship of state went on the rocks?”
“At school in a military academy in Kentucky. At least, so I was informed by my cousins here shortly after my arrival, and prior to losing caste with them because of my association, unchaperoned, with Billy.”