but with eyes
that were again set in fierce determination. I laughed a low laugh.

"I believe you are fit for the trade, after all," said I; and I looked
with mingled distaste and admiration on him. But I had my last weapon
still, my last question.

I turned the lantern full on his face; I leaned forward again, and said,
in distinct, low tones--and the question sounded an absurd one to be
spoken in such an impressive way:

"Do you generally wear clothes like these?"

I had got home with that question. The pallor vanished; the haughty eyes
sank. I saw long, drooping lashes and a burning flush; and the boy's
face once again sought his hands.

At the moment I heard chairs pushed back in the kitchen. In came
Hogvardt, with an amused smile on his broad face; in came Watkins, with
his impassive acquiescence in anything that his lordship might order; in
came Master Denny, brandishing his whip in jovial relentlessness.

"Well, has he told you anything?" cried Denny. It was plain that he
hoped for the answer "No."

"I have asked him half a dozen questions," said I, "and he has not
answered one."

"All right," said Denny, with wonderful emphasis.

Had I been wrong to extort this much punishment for my most inhospitable
reception? Sometimes now I think that it was cruel. In that night much
had occurred to breed viciousness in a man of the most equable temper.
But the thing had now gone to the extreme limit to which it could; and I
said to Denny:

"It's a gross case of obstinacy, of course, Denny; but I don't see very
well how we can horsewhip the lady!"

A sudden, astounded cry, "The lady!" rang from three pairs of lips; the
lady herself dropped her head on the table, and fenced her face round
about with her protecting arms.

"You see," said I, "this lad is the Lady Euphrosyne."

For who else could it be that would give orders to Constantine
Stefanopoulos, and ask where "my people" were? Who else, I also asked
myself, save the daughter of the noble house, would boast the air, the
hands, the face, that graced our young prisoner? In all certainty it was
Lady Euphrosyne.

CHAPTER V.

THE COTTAGE ON THE HILL.

The effect of my remark was curious. Denny turned scarlet, and flung his
whip down on the table; the others stood for a moment motionless, then
turned tail and slunk back to the kitchen. Euphrosyne's face remained
invisible. However, I felt quite at my ease. I had a triumphant
conviction of the impo