“I perceive this—­that you misjudge Lind altogether.  I am sure of it.  I have seen it from the beginning—­from the moment you set your foot in his house.  And you tried to blind yourself to the fact because of Natalie.  Now that you imagine that he means to take Natalie from you, all your pent-up antagonism breaks loose.  Meanwhile, what does Natalie herself say?”

“What does she say?” he repeated, mechanically.  He also was lying back in his chair, his eyes gazing aimlessly at the window.  But whenever anyone spoke of Natalie, or whenever he himself had to speak of her, a quite new expression came into his face; the brows lifted, the eyes were gentle.  “What does she say?  Why, nothing.  Lind requested me neither to see her nor write to her; and I thought that reasonable until I should have heard what he had to say to me.  There is a message I got half an hour ago—­not from her.”

He handed to Lord Evelyn the anonymous scroll that he had received from the old German.

“Poor old Calabressa!” he said.  “Those Italians are always very fond of little mysteries.  But how he must have loved that woman?”

“Natalie’s mother?”

“Yes,” said the other, absently.  “I wonder he has never gone to see his sweetheart of former years.”

“What do you mean?”

Brand started.  It was not necessary that Lord Evelyn should in the mean time be intrusted with that secret.

“He told me that when he saw Natalie it was to him like a vision from the dead; she was so like her mother.  But I must be off, Evelyn; I have to meet Molyneux at two.  So that is your advice,” he said, as he went to the door—­“that I should comply with Lind’s demand; or—­to put it another way—­succumb to his threat?”

“It is not my advice at all—­quite the contrary.  I say, if you have any doubt or distrust—­if you cannot make the sacrifice without perfect faith and satisfaction to yourself—­do not think of it.”

“And go to America?”

“I cannot believe that any such compulsory alternative exists.  But about Natalie, surely you will send her a message; Lind cannot object to that?”

“I will send her no message; I will go to her,” the other said, firmly.  “I believe Lind wishes me not to see her.  Within the duties demanded of me by the Society, his wishes are to me commands; elsewhere and otherwise neither his wishes nor his commands do I value more than a lucifer-match.  Is that plain enough, Evelyn?”

And so he went away, forgetting all the sage counsel Calabressa had given him; thinking rather of the kindly, thoughtful, mysterious little message the old man had left behind him, and of the beautiful caged bird that sighed and wept because she thought she was forgotten.  She should not think that long!

CHAPTER XXVI.

A PROMISE.