He tried to disbelieve the story that he had been told. He tried hard to think that the man whom Elizabeth loved could not be Brian Luttrell. He strove to convince himself that Elizabeth would be happier with him than with the man she loved. Last of all he struggled desperately with the conviction that it was his highest duty to tell her the whole story, set her free, and let Brian marry her if he chose. With the respective claims of Dino, Brian, and Elizabeth to the estate, he felt that he had no need to interfere. They must settle it amongst themselves. Of one thing he wanted to make sure. Was the tutor who had come with the Herons from Italy indeed Brian Luttrell? How could he ascertain? Chance favoured him, he thought. On the following morning he met Hugo Luttrell in town, and accosted him with unusual eagerness. "I've an odd question to ask you," he said, "but I have a strong reason for it. You saw the tutor at Strathleckie when you were in Scotland?" "Yes," said Hugo, looking at him restlessly out of his long, dark eyes. "Had you any idea that Stretton was not his real name?" Hugo paused before he replied. "It is rather an odd question, certainly," he said, with a temporising smile. "May I ask what you want to know for?" "I was told that he came to the house under a feigned name: that's all." "Who told you so?" "Oh, a person who knew him." "An Italian? A priest?" Hugo was thinking of the possibility of Father Christoforo's having made his way to England. "Yes," said Percival, dubiously. "A Benedictine monk, I believe. He hinted that you knew Stretton's real name." "Quite a mistake," said Hugo. "I know nothing about him. But your priest sounds romantic. An old fellow, isn't he, with grey hair?" "Not at all: young and slight, with dark eyes and rather a finely-cut face. Calls himself Dino Vasari or some such name." Hugo started: a yellowish pallor overspread his face. For a moment he stopped short in the street: then hurried on so fast that Percival was left a few steps behind. "What's the matter? So you know him?" said Heron, overtaking him by a few vigorous strides. "A little. He's the biggest scoundrel I ever met," replied Hugo, slackening his pace and trying to speak easily. "I was surprised at his being in England, that was all. Do you know where he lives, that I may avoid the street!" he added, laughing. Percival told him, wondering at his evident agitation. "Then you can't tell me anything about Stretton?" he said, as they came to a building which he was about to enter. "Nothing. Wish I could," said Hugo, turning away.