Part 2 (2/2)

”I'll tell you directly how that was. I remembered and then forgot--if you know what I mean--and now it has all come back. At the time I thought the letter of this man who called himself Philip de Mountford nothing but humbug. So did Mr. Warren, and yet he and I talked it over and discussed it between us for ever so long. It all sounded so strange. Uncle Arthur--so this man said who called himself Philip de Mountford--had married in Martinique a half-caste girl named Adeline Pet.i.t, who was this same Philip's mother. He declares that he has all the papers--marriage certificates or whatever they are called--to prove every word he says. He did not want to trouble his uncle much, only now that his mother was dead, he felt all alone in the world and longed for the companions.h.i.+p and affection of his own kith and kin.

All he wanted he said, was friends.h.i.+p. Then he went on to say that of course he did not expect his lords.h.i.+p to take his word for all this, he only asked for an opportunity to show his dear uncle all the papers and other proofs which he held that he was in real and sober truth the only legitimate son of Mr. Arthur de Mountford, own brother to his lords.h.i.+p.”

”How old is this man--this Philip de Mountford--supposed to be?”

”Well, he said in that first letter that the marriage took place in the parish church of St. Pierre in Martinique on the 28th of August, 1881; that he himself was born the following year, and christened in the same church under the name of Philip Arthur, and registered as the son of Mr. Arthur Collingwood de Mountford of Ford's Mount in the county of Northampton, England, and of Adeline de Mountford, nee Pet.i.t, his wife.”

”Twenty-four years ago,” said Louisa thoughtfully, ”and he only claims kins.h.i.+p with Lord Radclyffe now?”

”That's just,” rejoined Luke, ”where the curious part of the story comes in. This Philip de Mountford--I don't know how else to call him--said in his first letter that his mother never knew that Mr.

Arthur de Mountford was anything more than a private English gentleman travelling either for profit or pleasure, but in any case not possessed of either wealth or social position. Between you and me, dear, I suppose that this Adeline Pet.i.t was just a half-caste girl, without much knowledge of what goes on in the world, and why she should have married Uncle Arthur I can't think.”

”If she did marry him, you mean.”

”If she did marry him, as you say,” said Luke with a singular want of conviction, which Louisa was not slow to remark.

”You think that this young man's story is true then?”

”I don't know what to think, and that's the truth.”

”Tell me more,” added Louisa simply.

”Well, this Philip's story goes on to say that his father--Uncle Arthur--apparently soon tired of his exotic wife, for it seems that two years after the marriage he left Martinique and never returned to it to the day of his death.”

”Pardon,” said Louisa in her prim little way, ”my interrupting you: but have any of you--Lord Radclyffe I mean, or any of your friends--any recollection of your uncle Arthur living at Martinique for awhile? Two years seems a long time----”

”As a matter of fact, Uncle Arthur was a bit of a wastrel you know. He never would study for anything. He pa.s.sed into the navy--very well, too, I believe--but he threw it all up almost as soon as he got his commission, and started roaming about the world. I do know for a fact that once his people had no news of him for about three or four years, and then he turned up one fine day as if he had only been absent for a week's shooting.”

”When was that?”

”I can't tell you exactly. I was only a tiny kid at the time, not more than three years old I should say. Yes, I do remember, now I come to think of it, that Uncle Arthur was home the Christmas after my third birthday. I have a distinct recollection of my dad telling me that Uncle Arthur was one of my presents from Father Christmas, and of my thinking what a rotten present it was. Later on in the nursery all of us children were rather frightened of him, and we used to have great discussions as to where this uncle came from. The Christmas present theory was soon exploded, because of some difficulty about Uncle Arthur not having been actually found in a stocking, and his being too big anyway to be hidden in one, so we fell back on Jim's suggestion that he was the man in the moon come down for a holiday.”

”You,” she said, ”had your third birthday in 1883.”

”Yes.”

”That was the year, then, that your uncle Arthur came home from his wanderings about the world, during which he had never given any news of himself or his doings to any member of his family.”

”By Jove, Lou, what a splendid examining magistrate you'd make!” was Luke's unsophisticated comment on Louisa's last remark.

But she frowned a little at this show of levity, and continued quietly:

”And your uncle, according to this so-called Philip de Mountford, was married in 1881 in Martinique, his son was born in 1882, and he left Martinique in 1883 never to return.”

”Hang it all, Lou!” exclaimed the young man almost roughly, ”that is all surmise.”

”I know it is, dear; I was only thinking.”

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