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Updated: June 27, 2025
He landed in Scotland, and tramped from Granton to Yorkshire, where an accidental encounter with an old acquaintance tempted him to linger at Raynham. The two tramps, scoundrels both, and both alike penniless and shoeless, had stood side by side at the gates of the park, to see the stately funeral train pass out.
"Who is it?" Amelia asked. We expected him to answer, "Count von Lebenstein," or "Mr. Granton," or "Medhurst." Instead of that, he replied, to our utter surprise, "That's Césarine's young man, my lady." "Césarine's young man?" Amelia repeated, taken aback. "Oh, Dudley, surely, you must be mistaken!" "No, my lady," Dudley replied, in a tone of conviction.
"Hang it all, can't you say anything more than that?" he asked testily. "Oh, yes! dad, lots," I answered, closing my book and keeping my finger at the place. "For one thing I have never met this Lady Rosemary Granton; never even seen her picture and, to tell you the truth, from what I have heard of her, I have no immediate desire to make the lady's acquaintance."
Objection to travel! Who ever heard of a boy of fifteen who had an objection to travel? "But will your parents consent? That is the next question. I don't want to entice any boys away from home against their parents' consent." "My parents do not live here. They live farther north, in the town of Granton." "Granton? I never was there. Is it a large place?" "No, sir, it is a very small place.
A little after eight her Majesty landed at Granton Pier, amidst the cheers of her Scotch subjects. The Duke of Buccleugh, whose public-spirited work the pier was, stood there to receive his sovereign, when she put her foot on shore, as he had already been on board the yacht to greet her arrival in what was once called Scotland Water.
He answered with promptitude. He identified the prisoner without the slightest hesitation as the man who had swindled him under the various disguises of the Reverend Richard Peploe Brabazon, the Honourable David Granton, Count von Lebenstein, Professor Schleiermacher, Dr. Quackenboss, and others. He had not the slightest doubt of the man's identity. He could swear to him anywhere.
"Yes! I know, so let us not say any more about it. It is Harry and she for it, and, if they are pleased and an old whim of yours satisfied, what matters it to an ordinary, easy-going, pipe-loving, cold-blooded fellow like me?" "Whim, did you say? Whim?" cried my father, flaring up and clenching his hands excitedly. "Do you call the vow of a Brammerton a whim? The pledged word of a Granton a whim?
The moon, riding in mid-heaven, diffused her rays on all sides. In the little port of Granton lay two or three fishing boats; they rocked gently on the waters of the Firth. The wind fell as the dawn approached. The atmosphere, clear of mists, promised one of those fine autumn days so delicious on the sea coast.
If I didn't, I ran a risk of being considered by Charles an accomplice and a confederate. The interview was long. I hardly know how I struggled through it. At the end young Granton went off, well satisfied, if it was young Granton; and Amelia invited him and his wife up to dinner at the castle. Whatever else they were, they were capital company.
Yet in this compound face, produced only from photographs of David Granton and Medhurst, I could distinctly trace a certain underlying likeness to every one of the forms which the impostor had assumed for us. In other words, though he could make up so as to mask the likeness to his other characters, he could not make up so as to mask the likeness to his own personality.
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