My lord laughed in gentle triumph. “I am always an unknown quantity, my Robin. You should have thought of that. But if I were not in very truth Tremaine of Barham — which I am — I should stand precisely where I stand today. Therein lies my greatness. Believe it!”
“Oh, I do, sir. I’m of the opinion you might be King of England if you choose.”
My lord considered this. “It is possible, my son,” he said seriously. “I do not say that it would be altogether beyond my powers. But there would be difficulties — great difficulties.”
“Lord, let’s remain content as we are!” said Robin, alarmed. “I’m satisfied, sir.”
“I told you, and you would not believe it, that we had come to the end of our wanderings!”
“I doubt I shall wake up soon,” said Robin.
He was present at a dinner party my lord gave that night, and my lord’s guests decided that he was a charmingly mannered young man. My lord said afterwards: — “You will be almost as great a success as your father, my Robin!”
“Impossible, sir,” said Robin, stirring the dregs of punch in the big silver bowl.
“I do not deny it,” said my lord. His eyes rested fondly on his son’s fair face. “Tomorrow, Robin, you will go down to Dartrey and bring my Prudence to Barham.”
Came a slight frown. “The next day, an it please you, sir. I’ve affairs of my own tomorrow.”
These affairs took him, on the next day, to the house of Sir Humphrey Grayson. Sir Humphrey received him in his library, and looked somewhat at a loss. “Mr Tremaine?” he said. Robin bowed. “I have to suppose — my Lord Barham’s son?” Again Robin bowed. “Er — you have business with me?” Sir Humphrey was puzzled.
Robin looked straightly at him. “Sir Humphrey, may I ask what you may perhaps think an impertinent question? — Are you in your daughter’s confidence?”
“Fully, sir.” Sir Humphrey was a little stiff.
“She has perhaps mentioned to you a man calling himself l’Inconnu?”
Sir Humphrey started. “Sir?”
“I am he,” said Robin quietly.
For a moment Sir Humphrey could find no words. This slim boy — that magic swordsman Letty raved about! No highwayman, no outlaw, as he had feared, but a Viscount’s son and heir! “You?” he gasped. “You are the man who saved my daughter? Barham’s son! You will excuse me, sir; I am completely taken aback! Are you indeed my daughter’s mysterious champion?”
“A grander term than I should have chosen, sir. I am the Unknown who killed Markham, certainly. But I beg you won’t mention it.”
“You are he! Sir, you must let me take your hand! I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay. Indeed, I scarcely know how to thank you, for words seem to be inadequate!”
Robin broke in, flushing. “Sir Humphrey, you will agree that gratitude is out of place when I tell you that I love your daughter. I am here today to ask you for your permission to pay my addresses to her in form.”
Sir Humphrey wrung his hand anew. His feelings were almost too much for him. At one moment he was under the gloomy conviction that the late appalling scandal had ruined his Letitia for ever; at the next a brilliant match for her was proposed to him. Her position in the world would be honourable beyond his wildest hopes, and no one would dare to talk scandal of the prospective Viscountess of Barham. He gave Robin to understand that he had a father’s blessing and suggested that he should send Letty to him at once.
Robin begged him, with a dancing smile, to lose no time in so doing. Sir Humphrey went off with quite a jaunty step.
In a few moments the door opened again to admit Letty. She was dressed all in primrose taffeta, with a riband through her curls. Her father had not told her who waited to see her; there was a wondering expression in the brown eyes, and she looked doubtfully at Robin.
He stood in the middle of the room, watching her, and said no word. The puzzled gaze ran over him slowly; a little hand stole to Letty’s breast and her eyes widened. The slight, strong figure was surely familiar. She saw him put a hand to his pocket, and bring out a string of pearls. On his little finger was a gold ring cunningly wrought.
“It is you!” she said, little above a whisper. Then she saw the fascinating smile, and the pearls held out to her, and she came forward in a stumbling run. “Oh, you have come at last!” she said, on a sob, and found herself in his arms. The pearls dropped unheeded to the floor.
“I have come as I told you I should and you know what I demand,” he said in her ear. “Letty, will you marry me?”
She breathed a shy yes; she was clinging to him, and she put up her face to be kissed. All dreams had come true for her.
The arms tightened about her. “Ah, you wonderful girl!” Robin said. “You do not even know my name!”
“I love you.”
“I worship you,” Robin said, and lifted one of her hands to his lips. “Do you love me enough to forgive, Letitia?”
His voice sounded anxious. She pulled his hand to her own lips. “Forgive you! I have nothing, nothing to forgive you!”
“Ah, but you have!” He put her gently from him. “Look at me! Look at me well, Letty!”
She was blushingly rosily, and dropped shy eyelids. He said more insistently: — “Look into my face, Letitia, and tell me then if you have nothing to forgive.”
The long lashes fluttered upwards; the brown eyes were misty. “What is it you mean?” Letty asked.
“You don’t know me? You don’t recognise me? Look at me well, child?”
She stared full into his face, blankly at first, and then with dawning astonishment. “But — but — oh no, you could not be!”
“Could not be what?”
“Another brother — another brother of Kate Merriot’s,” she ventured. “You — it is the eyes — and the nose — and — ”
“I am not her brother,” Robin said. “Try again, Letty. You come near the truth.”
She fell back a pace. “You are not — oh, you cannot be — no, no, how could you be?”
“I am Kate Merriot,” Robin said, and waited, his eyes on her face.
Letty was as pale now as she had been rosy. “You — you? A woman? You acted — But it can’t be! Kate was a woman!”
He shook his head; he was no longer smiling.
“Oh!” cried Letty. “Oh, the things I must have said — ” She broke off in distress.
“I swear on my honour you said naught to Kate you would not have said to a man!” he said quickly.
Letty was staring at him in amazement. “It was not fair!” she said. “You might have told me!”
“Will you let me explain?” he asked. “Won’t you hear me?”
Letty came nearer. “Yes, please explain,” she said in a small tearful voice. “But — but I wish you had trusted me!”
He held out his hand, and she put hers into it. “I wish I had, Letitia. But I had been schooled to tell no secrets. And this one had my life at stake.”
Her lips formed an O. “Tell me!” she begged. “You know I forgive you anything. And I would never, never betray you.”
“Beloved!” He caught her to him. “I hardly dared to think that you could forgive so hateful a deception.”
She hung her head. “You forget — you are the Unknown hero,” she confided shyly.
“There’s very little of the hero about me, child; I’m an escaped Jacobite.”
Her head came up; her eyes sparkled. “And I thought it romantic to elope with that odious Markham!” she cried. “Tell me all about it, please!”
At that Robin went off into a peal of laughter. She was surprised. “Why, you did not suppose I should mind, did you?” she inquired.
“I ought to have known,” Robin said, and swept her off her feet. “My darling, my name is Robin, and I’m an adventurer! Will you still marry me?”
“I like your name, and I should love to be an adventuress,” said Letty. “May I be one?”
“Alack, you are more like to be a Viscountess,” Robin said, and sat down with her on his knee.
The tale took some time in the telling, and it left Letty wide-eyed and amazed. When she heard that Peter Merriot was Prudence Tremaine, she gasped, and gasped again. At the end for a while she could only bewail the fact that she had not known it all before.