“Honestly, Claudius, though there is not the slightest doubt in my mind that you are what you appear to be, I could not conscientiously swear it in evidence.  I do not know anything about you.  But Barker could.”

“No, he could not.  He knows no more about me than you do, saving that he met me two or three days sooner.  He met me in Heidelberg, it is true, but he made no inquiries whatever concerning me.  It never entered his head that I could be anything but what I professed to be.”

“I should think not, indeed,” said the Duke warmly.

“But now that I am here in the flesh, these lawyers are making trouble.  One of them was here a little while since, and he wanted documentary evidence of my identity.”

“Who was the lawyer?”

“A Mr. Screw, one of the executors of the will.”

“Who is the other executor?” asked the Duke quickly.

“Barker’s father.”

The Englishman’s face darkened, and he puffed savagely at his cigar.  He had been angry with Barker the day before.  Now he began to suspect him of making trouble.

“What sort of evidence did the man want?” he asked at length.

“Any sort of documentary evidence would do.  He asked me for my certificate of birth, and I told him he could not have it.  And then he went so far as to remark in a very disagreeable way that he could not authorise me to draw upon the estate until I produced evidence.”

“Well, that is natural enough.”

“It would have been so at first.  But they had accepted the mere signature to my letter from Heidelberg as proof of my existence, and I got word in Baden in July that I might draw as much as I pleased.  And now they turn upon me and say I am not myself.  Something has happened.  Fortunately I have not touched the money, in spite of their kind permission.”

“There is something very odd about this, Claudius.  Have you got such a thing as a birth certificate to show?”

“Yes,” answered Claudius, after a pause.  “I have everything in perfect order, my mother’s marriage and all.”

“Then why, in Heaven’s name, can you not show it, and put all these rascally lawyers to flight?”

“Because—­” Claudius began, but he hesitated and stopped.  “It is a curious story,” he said, “and it is precisely what I want to talk to you about.”

“Is it very long?” asked the Duke; “I have not dined yet.”

“No, it will not take long, and if you have nothing better to do we will dine together afterwards.  But first there are two things I want to say.  If I prove to you that I am the son of my uncle’s sister, will you tell Mr. Screw that you know it for a fact, that is, that if it had to be sworn to, you would be willing to swear to it?”

“If you prove it to me so that I am legally sure of it, of course I will.”

“The other thing I will ask you is, not to divulge what I shall tell you, or show you.  You may imagine from my being unwilling to show these papers, even to a lawyer, when my own fortune is concerned, that I attach some importance to secrecy.”