ichael had died--there were
all the formal proofs. He had died unmarried and intestate, and his
estate amounted to about a thousand pounds. Sir Alexander put the affair
in our hands; and of course, as he was next-of-kin to his eldest son,
what there was came to him. And we then pointed out to him that now that
Mr. Michael Carstairs was dead, Mr. Gilbert came next--he would get the
title, in any case--and we earnestly pressed Sir Alexander to make a
will. And he was always going to, and he never did--and he died
intestate, as you know. And at that, of course, Sir Gilbert Carstairs
came forward, and--"

"A moment," interrupted Mr. Lindsey. "Did anybody know where he was at
the time of his father's death?"

"Nobody hereabouts, at any rate," replied Mr. Portlethorpe. "Neither
his father, nor his sister, nor ourselves had heard of him for many a
long year. But he called on us within twenty-four hours of his
father's death."

"With proof, of course, that he was the man he represented himself to
be?" asked Mr. Lindsey.

"Oh, of course--full proof!" answered Mr. Portlethorpe. "Papers, letters,
all that sort of thing--all in order. He had been living in London for a
year or two at that time; but, according to his own account, he had gone
pretty well all over the world during the thirty years' absence. He'd
been a ship's surgeon--he'd been attached to the medical staff of more
than one foreign army, and had seen service--he'd been on one or two
voyages of discovery--he'd lived in every continent--in fact, he'd had a
very adventurous life, and lately he'd married a rich American heiress."

"Oh, Lady Carstairs is an American, is she?" remarked Mr. Lindsey.

"Just so--haven't you met her?" asked Mr. Portlethorpe.

"Never set eyes on her that I know of," replied Mr. Lindsey. "But go on."

"Well, of course, there was no doubt of Sir Gilbert's identity,"
continued Mr. Portlethorpe; "and as there was also no doubt that Sir
Alexander had died intestate, we at once began to put matters right.
Sir Gilbert, of course, came into the whole of the real estate, and he
and Mrs. Ralston shared the personalty--which, by-the-by, was
considerable: they both got nearly a hundred thousand each, in cash.
And--there you are!"

"That all?" asked Mr. Lindsey.

Mr. Portlethorpe hesitated a moment--then he glanced at me.

"Moneylaws is safe at a secret," said Mr. Lindsey. "If it is a secret."

"Well, then," answered Mr. Portlethorpe, "it's not