amily with an
assertion that is incapable of proof?"

"Then why did you tell me now?"

"Because you know it already."

Brian seated himself and leaned back in his chair, with his eyes still
fixed upon the Prior's face.

"Why do you think that I know it?" he said.

"Because," said Padre Cristoforo, raising his long forefinger, and
emphasising every fresh point with a convincing jerk, "because you have
come to San Stefano. You would never have come here unless you wanted to
find out the truth. Because you have changed your name. You would have
had no reason to abandon the name of Luttrell unless you were not sure
of your right to bear it. Because you spoke of Vincenza in your
delirium. Do I need more proofs?"

There was another proof which he did not mention. He had found Mrs.
Luttrell's letter to Brian amongst the sick man's clothes, and had
carefully perused it before locking it up with the rest of the
stranger's possessions. It was characteristic of the man that, during
the last few years, he had set himself steadily to work to master the
English language by the aid of every English book or English-speaking
traveller that came in his way. He had succeeded wonderfully well, and
no one but himself knew for what purpose that arduous task had been
undertaken. He found his accomplishment useful; he had thought it
particularly useful when he read Mrs. Luttrell's letter. But naturally
he did not say so to Brian.

"You are right," said Brian, in a low voice. "But you say it is
incapable of proof. She--my mother--I mean Mrs. Luttrell--says so, too."

"If it were capable of proof," said the Prior, softly, "should you
contest the matter?"

"Yes," Brian answered, with an angry flash of his eyes, "if I had been
in England, and any such claimant appeared, I would have fought the
ground to the last inch! Not for the sake of the estates--I have given
those up easily enough--but for my father's sake. I would not lightly
give up my claim to call him father; he never doubted once that I was
his son."

"He never doubted?"

"I am sure he never did."

"But Mrs. Luttrell----"

"God help me, yes! But she thinks also that I meant to take my brother's
life."

It needed but a few words of inquiry to lead Brian to tell the story of
his brother's death. The Prior knew it well enough; he had made it his
business to ascertain the history of the Luttrell family during the past
few years; but he listened with the gentle and sympath