“I thought it probable that you might follow me,” was the reply, given with studious lack of formality. The Prince’s sallow face flushed darkly, and Maurice interfered in haste.
“You may be surprised by our claiming acquaintance with your private affairs, Prince, but as a matter of fact, your wife confided the news of your marriage to my sister very soon after it occurred.”
“She could not have found a better confidant,” said Prince Romanos politely, but Zoe found his eyes fixed gloomily upon her. He was clearly asking himself whether it was possible that she could have kept this damaging secret—known, no doubt, to her husband also—so long without making use of it to injure him?
“It did not occur to her to connect the two events,” Maurice went on, “when, five or six months ago, a girl from the islands, in charge of a little child, sought refuge with us. But perhaps you see a connection?”
“How long ago?” asked Prince Romanos excitedly. “A girl from the islands, you say? Was the child a boy?”
“The exact day was that on which Wylie and I left Therma—when you were to have joined us, but were prevented by—by severe personal bereavement.”
“Exactly. But what should have taken the girl to you?”
“We found her running away in terror from your servant Petros and she implored our help. Her first story was that her sister had been murdered by her husband——” Maurice paused involuntarily, struck by the ominous coincidence of the words, then hurried on—“and she was escaping with the child. Petros was anxious to claim control over her, but she denied frantically that he had any right to it, and we did not think he was quite the person to take charge of a young girl. We agreed to produce her if she was wanted in any legal proceedings, and meanwhile promised to find a place for her here. My sister has employed her in the nursery, and brought up the little boy with her own child.”
“Princess, accept the thanks of a father who thought himself bereaved of wife and son in one day,” said Prince Romanos, kissing Zoe’s hand. “Then the discerning eye of Zeto detected the son of John Theophanis under the mean disguise?”
“Don’t flatter me too much,” said Zoe, laughing with an effort. “Janni was just the age of my own Harold, and made a delightful companion for him. Besides, the girl very soon informed us that he was not her sister’s child, but some one immensely superior. But can you be quite sure that he is your lost child?”