"I am sure there were," said Derrick, warmly; and he wrung Reggie's
hand. "I congratulate you--both."
"But how about this dreadful business of the robbery at the Hall?" said
Lady Gridborough, suddenly growing pale.
"So far as my son is concerned, madam," said Mr. Clendon, in his grave
voice which had grown very gentle, "you will be glad to hear that it has
ended satisfactorily; he has been proved innocent of the crime laid to
his charge."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Lady Gridborough, delightedly.
"But"--suddenly--"your son? You are his father? I didn't know--I thought
his father was dead."
"So I was, madam; to the world; but I have returned from the grave to
find my son," said Mr. Clendon.
"Well, I am glad!" cried Lady Gridborough. "You must both come and stay
with me. Now, you won't refuse, Mr. Dene, will you?" She looked at Mr.
Clendon pleadingly, and then with confusion and embarrassment, as they
both remained silent.
"My father's name is not 'Dene,'" said Derrick, who felt that the
explanation would have to come sooner or later. "He is Lord Sutcombe."
Reggie did not start; but, for the first time in his life, the young man
looked nonplussed and discomfited; he regarded the father and son with a
puzzled stare, then, with an exclamation, he cried, "Of course, the elder brother! Then--then you, Green, are Lord
Heyton?" He smiled as if he himself had conferred the title of nobility
on Derrick. "Well, this knocks me out. No more detective novels for me!
Realism is my line for the future. And yet, what a novel it would make!"
"You shall write it some day, Reggie," said Derrick, with a smile.
"Some day?" retorted Reggie. "I'm going to write it at once! Come away,
Lady Gridborough! This is no place for us," he added tactfully, and,
taking her hand, he led the bewildered old lady out of the room,
nodding, with a smile of intense gratification, over his shoulder at
Derrick.