They went very far back, and of course did
not come out in order of chronology, nor would Mark have understood
them but for exclamations and comments here and there from his uncle.

Everything seemed to be there,--the old passport and certificate to
Gregorio Savelli, when he left his Savoyard home to be a waiter at a
hotel; a few letters in Italian, probably from his parents, which Mark
could not read, but which soon ceased; the counter-signed character
with which he had entered General Egremont's service; and then came a
note or two signed A. P. E., which Mr. Egremont regarded with great
annoyance, though they only consisted of such phrases as 'Back on
Wednesday. Find an excuse,' or in French, 'Envoyez moi la petite
boite!' 'Que la porte soit ouverte apres minuit.'

'That was the way,' groaned Mr. Egremont. 'The scoundrel! he kept all
those to be able to show me up to the General if he chose! I was a
young man then, Mark, not the straitlaced lad you've always been. And
the General! A bad old dog he was, went far beyond what I ever did,
but for all that he had no notion of any one going any way but his own,
and wanted to rein me in as tight as if he had been an epitome of all
the virtues. And Gregorio seemed a good-natured young fellow then, and
made things easy for me, though no doubt he meant to have me in his
hands, in case I tried to shake him off.'

Another discovery affected him far more. It was of a letter in Alice's
handwriting, addressed to Captain Egremont, in the yacht Ninon--poste
restante, Madeira. He had never seen it, never known of its existence;
Gregorio had gone to inquire for the letters, and had suppressed it.
Mr. Egremont had wondered how he had become aware of the marriage. His
knowledge had from that time been used as a means of enforcing the need
of a good understanding with the heir. Mr. Egremont was much moved by
the sight of the letter, and its date, from Dieppe, about six months
after he had left his young wife there. He made Mark give it to him
unread, handled it tenderly, struggled to read the delicate pointed
writing to himself, but soon deferred the attempt, observing, 'There,
there, I can't stand it now! But you see, Mark,' he added after an
interval, 'I was not altogether the heartless brute you thought me.'

Mark, as he told his wife afterwards, could not help thinking of the
old preamble to indictments, 'By the temptation of the devil.'

And by and by, out of a pocket-