"Because none has ever known. We have kept the secret well.
You display no coat of arms that no bar sinister may be
displayed. But the time may come when the secret must out.
You might, for instance, think of marrying a lady of quality,
a lady of your own supposed station. What shall you tell her
of yourself? That you have no name to offer her; that the
name you bear is yours by assumption only? Ah! That brings
home your own wrongs to you, Justin! Consider them; have them
ever present in your mind, together with your mother's
blighted life, that you may not shrink when the hour strikes
to punish the evildoer."

He flung himself back in his chair again, and watched the
younger man with brooding eye. Mr. Caryll was plainly moved.
He had paled a little, and he sat now with brows contracted
and set teeth.

Sir Richard pushed back his chair and rose, recapitulating.
"He is your mother's destroyer," he said, with a sad
sternness. "Is the ruin of that fair life to go unpunished?
Is it, Justin?"

Mr. Caryll's Gallic spirit burst abruptly through its British
glaze. He crushed fist into palm, and swore: "No, by God! It
shall not, Sir Richard!"

Sir Richard held out his hands, and there was a fierce joy in
his gloomy eyes at last. "You'll cross to England with me,
Justin?"