"Yielding to my earnest entreaty, my command, my brother consented to

conceal the fact," said Mr. Clendon, gravely.

"Yes, but it was wrong, Wilfred; and it was foolish," said the Marquess.

His eyes went to his son. "I am sorry, Percy. I believed that he was

dead; but I should have told you the moment I discovered the truth. Yes,

I see now that it was my duty to have done so."

Heyton had stood staring at the two old men dully; his sodden brain did

not realize at first the importance of the avowal; then the blood rushed

to his face and he stammered: "What's all this? What's the meaning of this cock-and-bull story? I--I

don't understand. You don't suppose I'm going to cave in, accept this

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fairytale? I'm your son--I'm the next in succession----"

"Yes," said the Marquess, with a deep sigh, and a look at his son which

Heyton understood and quailed from. "My brother is not married; you are

his heir--after me."

"I did not say I was not married, Talbot," said Mr. Clendon, almost

inaudibly. "I said that I had no son. But we will not dwell on that. If

I could have had my desire, the truth, my identity, would have been

buried with me."

"No, no," panted the Marquess; "even if you had not come to-day, I

should have told the truth, Wilfred. Would to God I had told it before!"

"Here, but look here!" Heyton broke out, with a kind of impatient

insolence. "This is all very well. This old man comes here, makes a

statement--gets you to make a statement--when, as everybody knows,

you're not in your right mind--Oh, I'm not going to accept it!"

"There are proofs. You know, Wilfred," said the Marquess. "But I can

talk no longer. Leave me with my brother."

They went, the doctor and nurse only remaining: the Marquess's little

strength had been sorely tried, and the doctor was watching him closely.

With a defiant air, Heyton swaggered down the steps. As he reached the

bottom, a hand fell on his shoulder; lightly enough, but Heyton started

and winced.

"Will you give me a minute or two in the sitting-room, my lord?" said

Mr. Jacobs, blandly.

"Eh, what is it?" said Heyton, with an oath. "What do you want? I don't

want to be bothered just now; got plenty of my own affairs on my mind."

But he followed the detective. Mr. Jacobs closed the door and stood, on

one side of the table, looking at Heyton on the other.




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