In the mind of the American, on the contrary, there was no doubt.  He glared both at Kinney and myself, as though he would like to boil us in oil.

After dinner, in spite of my protests, Kinney set forth to interview him and, as he described it, to “lead him on” to commit himself.  I feared Kinney was much more likely to commit himself than the other, and when I saw them seated together I watched from a distance with much anxiety.

An hour later, while I was alone, a steward told me the purser would like to see me.  I went to his office, and found gathered there Stumps, his American friend, the night watchman of the boat, and the purser.  As though inviting him to speak, the purser nodded to the American.  That gentleman addressed me in an excited and belligerent manner.

“My name is Aldrich,” he said; “I want to know what your name is?”

I did not quite like his tone, nor did I like being summoned to the purser’s office to be questioned by a stranger.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” said Aldrich, “it seems you have several names.  As one of them belongs to this gentleman”—­he pointed at Stumps—­“he wants to know why you are using it.”

I looked at Stumps and he greeted me with the vague and genial smile that was habitual to him, but on being caught in the act by Aldrich he hurriedly frowned.

“I have never used any name but my own,” I said; “and,” I added pleasantly, “if I were choosing a name I wouldn’t choose ‘Stumps.’”

Aldrich fairly gasped.

“His name is not Stumps!” he cried indignantly.  “He is the Earl of Ivy!”

He evidently expected me to be surprised at this, and I was surprised.  I stared at the much-advertised young Irishman with interest.

Aldrich misunderstood my silence, and in a triumphant tone, which was far from pleasant, continued:  “So you see,” he sneered, “when you chose to pass yourself off as Ivy you should have picked out another boat.”

The thing was too absurd for me to be angry, and I demanded with patience:  “But why should I pass myself off as Lord Ivy?”

“That’s what we intend to find out,” snapped Aldrich.  “Anyway, we’ve stopped your game for to-night, and to-morrow you can explain to the police!  Your pal,” he taunted, “has told every one on this boat that you are Lord Ivy, and he’s told me lies enough about himself to prove he’s an impostor, too!”

I saw what had happened, and that if I were to protect poor Kinney I must not, as I felt inclined, use my fists, but my head.  I laughed with apparent unconcern, and turned to the purser.

“Oh, that’s it, is it?” I cried.  “I might have known it was Kinney; he’s always playing practical jokes on me.”  I turned to Aldrich.  “My friend has been playing a joke on you, too,” I said.  “He didn’t know who you were, but he saw you were an Anglomaniac, and he’s been having fun with you!”