"
"A name unknown to me," said Sir Norman, with a piercing look,
"and equally unknown, I believe, at Whitehall. There is a Lord
L'Estrange in London; or you and he are certainly not one and the
same."
"My friend does not believe me," said the count, almost gayly -
"a circumstance I regret, but cannot help. Is there anything
else Sir Norman wishes to know?"
"If you do not answer my questions truthfully, there to little
use in my asking them," said Sir Norman, bluntly. "Do you mean
to say you are a foreigner?"
"Sir Norman Kingsley is at perfect liberty to answer that
question as he pleases," replied the stranger, with most
provoking indifference.
Sir Norman's eye flashed, and his hand fell on his sword; but,
reflecting that the count might find it inconvenient to answer
any more questions if he ran him through, he restrained himself
and went on.
"Sir, you are impertinent, but that is of no consequence, just
now. Who was that lady - what was her name?"
"Leoline."
"Was she your wife?"
The stranger paused for a moment, as if reflecting whether she
was or not, and then said, meditatively
"No - I don't know as she was.
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