Miss Helen with fac-similes. It will do no harm if you make a declaration
to the same effect before a magistrate. You, Miss Rolleston, keep
yourself disengaged, and please don't go out. You will very likely hear
from me again to-day."

He drove off, and Helen, though still greatly agitated by Robert's danger
and the sense of his presence, now sat down, trembling a little, and
compared Arthur's letter with the forged document. The effect of this
comparison was irresistible. The expert, however, asked her for some
letter of Arthur's that had never passed through Robert Penfold's hands.
She gave him the short note in which he used the very words, Robert
Penfold. He said he would make that note the basis of his report.

While he was writing it, Mrs. Undercliff came in, and Helen told her all.
She said, "I came to the same conclusion long ago; but when you said he
was to be your husband--"

"Ah," said Helen, "we women are poor creatures; we can always find some
reason for running away from the truth. Now explain about the
prayer-book."

"Well, miss, I felt sure he would steal it, so I made Ned produce a
fac-simile. And he did steal it. What you got back was your mother's
prayer-book. Of course I took care of that."

"Oh, Mrs. Undercliff," cried Helen, "do let me kiss you."

Then they had a nice little cry together, and, by the time they had done,
the report was ready in duplicate.

"I'll declare this before a magistrate," said the expert, "and then I'll
send it you."

At four o'clock of this eventful day, Helen got a message from Burt to
say that he had orders to arrest Robert Penfold, and that she must wear a
mask, and ask Mr. Wardlaw to meet her at old Mr. Penfold's at nine
o'clock. But she herself must be there at half-past eight, without fail,
and bring Undercliff's declaration and report with her, and the
prayer-book, etc.

Accordingly Helen went down to old Mr. Penfold's at half-past eight and
was received by Nancy Rouse, and ushered into Mr. Penfold's room; that is
to say, Nancy held the door open, and, on her entering the room, shut it
sharply and ran down stairs.

Helen entered the room; a man rose directly, and came to her; but it was
not Michael Penfold--it was Robert. A faint scream, a heavenly sigh, and
her head was on his shoulder, and her arm round his neck, and both their
hearts panting as they gazed, and then clung to each other, and then
gazed again with love unutterable. After a while they go