what did he mean by that? He shut his eyes and saw a picture: A Moorish
castle, men firing from the battlements under a blazing sun, a multitude
of troops before a tall splendid-looking man, in armour chased with gold
and silver, and fine ribbons flying. A woman was lifted upon the
battlements. He saw the gold of her necklace shake on her flesh like
sunlight on little waves. He heard a cry:

At that moment some one said behind him: "You have your father's romantic
manner."

He quietly put down the book, and met the other's eyes with a steady
directness.

"Your memory is good, sir."

"Less than thirty years--h'm, not so very long!"

"Looking back--no. You are my father's brother, Ian Belward?"

"Your uncle Ian."

There was a kind of quizzical loftiness in Ian Belward's manner.

"Well, Uncle Ian, my father asked me to say that he hoped you would get
as much out of life as he had, and that you would leave it as honest."

"Thank you. That is very like Robert. He loved making little speeches.
It is a pity we did not pull together; but I was hasty, and he was rash.
He had a foolish career, and you are the result. My mother has told me
the story--his and yours."