“Do you think we call all young officers here by their Christian names?” “Does he know that you knew me?” “If he didn’t,” she replied, “he wouldn’t have consulted me about Mr. Burden’s letter. I wish I had been mothering him all his life,” she added after a pause; “but I’ve been doing my best for the last month. I can’t help loving him.” “What does he know about you and me?” “I’ve told him everything,” said Marcelle. Baltazar started to his feet. “Then when he saw us gaping at each other just now, he must have guessed, or he can’t have any Baltazar brains in his head.” He moved away a pace; then turned on her. “You gave me a good character?” Her head was bowed. She did not see the rare laughter in his eyes, but took his question seriously. “Can you doubt it?” She beckoned him nearer, and said in a low voice: “I may have been wrong, but I have given him to understand that it was entirely on my account—you know what I mean——” “What other reason, in the name of God could I have had?” he exclaimed with a large gesture. If there had lingered a doubt in her mind, the note of sincerity in the man’s cry would have driven it away for ever. It awoke a harmonic chord of gladness in her heart and her whole being vibrated. Although John Baltazar’s subsequent career was as yet dark and mysterious, her faith, at least, was justified. She said without looking at him: “You’ll find that I’ve been loyal.” He strode towards her and, disregarding the perils of publicity, again took her by the shoulders. “What kind of a cynical beast do you think I’ve turned into?” He swept away, leaving her physically conscious of the impress of his fingers in her flesh and her brain reeling. * * * * * Baltazar marched into the great hall to Godfrey, still sitting in his arm-chair, his maimed leg, as usual, supported on the outstretched crutch. “No, don’t get up.” He swung the chair which he had previously occupied dose to Godfrey’s and sat down. “By this time you must have guessed who I am,” he said in his direct fashion. “I suppose you’re my father,” said the young man. “I am,” replied Baltazar. “My extraordinary meeting with Miss Baring gave me away. Didn’t it?” “I suppose it did. Perhaps I ought to have suspected something when you mentioned China. But I didn’t.” “The assumed name was the one I was known by for eighteen years—ever since I left England. I thought I’d take it up again for the sake of a reconnaissance, like the rich old uncle in the play, to see what kind of a man you were and how you looked upon your unknown father. Hence the questions you may have thought impertinent.” “I quite see,” said Godfrey, pulling at his short-cropped moustache.