“So I have often been told”--with a hasty movement of his hand; “but it is not a question now of my eloquence, but of your future. Do you genuinely mean what you say? Do you intend to live here as your father’s sole companion?” “I do,” replied the young man, answering his look with eyes full of indomitable fire. Mr. Cardozo puffed away in solemn silence for some time, but there was a certain brisk cheerfulness in his air as he suddenly remarked-- “The major is going downhill rapidly, poor old chap! His health is bad; I see a great change in him. His mind will never recover. Of course _that_ is not to be expected; you know that it runs in the family--it is hereditary.” “What runs in the family? What is hereditary?” demanded the other, with a look full of pain and excitement. “Insanity. He told Mércèdes, who told me, that his brother jumped overboard at sea, going home in charge of two keepers; and his father died in Richmond lunatic asylum.” “Is--this--true?” Mark brought out the words in three quick gasps. “You don’t mean to say that you never knew? Oh, I’m awfully vexed! I entirely forgot you were his son. You look so different, upon my word, as you stand there, that I cannot realize that he is anything to you.” Jervis struggled to articulate again, but signally failed. With a shaking hand he tossed his cigarette over the parapet, and then walked away up the steps, and was instantly merged in the gloom of the entrance. “Hereditary.” The word seemed written before him in letters of flame--“hereditary.” CHAPTER XXXIV. THE INITIALS “H. G.” When it became known at the club, and subsequently all over Shirani, that young Jervis had suddenly disappeared the night of the bachelors’ ball, great was the sensation. No, no, there was no suspicion of foul play; there were his servants to be questioned. Jan Mahomed, his respectable, grey-bearded attendant, had declared that the night his master had come home, he had got straight from his evening clothes into his riding things, and had taken the grey pony and galloped away into the darkness. Whither? How could he say? holding out a pair of lean, empty hands, with a gesture of pitiable ignorance. He made no mention of the letter; for this prudent retainer had lived with bachelor sahibs before. Mrs. Langrishe and Lalla were for once agreed. They were convinced that Mr. Jervis had gone further than he had intended with Miss Gordon, and to repair the error, had subsequently put miles between them--was probably by this time on blue water. But they did not venture to air this opinion openly; it was reserved for “ladies only.” Major Langrishe had laughed it to scorn; and as for Toby Joy, he and Lalla almost had a quarrel on the subject--their very first quarrel.