He walked about the room with the quick eager step

that was peculiarly his own, while Stoddard, Larry and

I stared at him. Bates was helping the dazed sheriff

to his feet. Morgan and the rest of the foe were crawling

and staggering away, muttering, as though imploring

the air of heaven against an evil spirit.

Pickering sat silent, not sure whether he saw a ghost

or real flesh and blood, and Larry kept close to him, cutting

off his retreat. I think we all experienced that bewildered

feeling of children who are caught in mischief

by a sudden parental visitation. My grandfather went

about peering at the books, with a tranquil air that was

disquieting.

He paused suddenly before the design for the memorial

tablet, which I had made early in my stay at

Glenarm House. I had sketched the lettering with some

care, and pinned it against a shelf for my more leisurely

study of its phrases. The old gentlemen pulled out his

glasses and stood with his hands behind his back, reading.

When he finished he walked to where I stood.

"Jack!" he said, "Jack, my boy!" His voice shook

and his hands trembled as he laid them on my shoulders.

"Marian,"-he turned, seeking her, but the girl had

vanished. "Just as well," he said. "This room is hardly

an edifying sight for a woman." I heard, for an instant,

a light hurried step in the wall.

Pickering, too, heard that faint, fugitive sound, and

our eyes met at the instant it ceased. The thought of

her tore my heart, and I felt that Pickering saw and

knew and was glad.

"They have all gone, sir," reported Bates, returning

to the room.

"Now, gentlemen," began my grandfather, seating

himself, "I owe you an apology; this little secret of mine

was shared by only two persons. One of these was Bates,"

-he paused as an exclamation broke from all of us; and

he went on, enjoying our amazement,-"and the other

was Marian Devereux. I had often observed that at a

man's death his property gets into the wrong hands, or

becomes a bone of contention among lawyers. Sometimes,"

and the old gentleman laughed, "an executor

proves incompetent or dishonest. I was thoroughly

fooled in you, Pickering. The money you owe me is a

large sum; and you were so delighted to hear of my

death that you didn't even make sure I was really out of

the way. You were perfectly willing to accept Bates'

word for it; and I must say that Bates carried it off

splendidly."

Pickering rose, the blood surging again in his face,

and screamed at Bates, pointing a shaking finger at the

man.

"You impostor,-you perjurer! The law will deal

with your case."

"To be sure," resumed my grandfather calmly;

"Bates did make false affidavits about my death; but

possibly-"




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