that in the event of the said Ralph Elliot returning to England,
and clearly proving and establishing his identity, three hundred pounds
per annum shall be allowed him out of my funded property, for his
maintenance during the term of his natural life; and I further will and
direct, that in the event of my daughter, Clara Saville, by disobedience
to the commands of her guardian, Richard Vernor, forfeiting her
inheritance as, by way of penalty, I have above directed, then I
devise and bequeath the before mentioned funded property, together with
Barstone Priory and the lands and rents appertaining thereunto, to the
aforesaid Ralph Elliot, for his absolute use and behoof '."

~447~~

As he listened to the reading of this portion of the will, Mr. Vernor's
usually immovable features assumed an expression of uneasiness which
increased into an appearance of vague and undefined alarm; and when Mr.
Frampton concluded, he exclaimed hurriedly, "Well, sir, what of that?
The man has been drowned these forty years."

"Umph! I rather think not," was the reply, "I don't look much like a
drowned man, do I? Umph!"

So saying, he strode up to Mr. Vernor, and, regarding him with a stern
expression of countenance, added: "You were pleased in your insolence,
just now, to term me a 'nameless individual'; these papers," he
continued, producing a bundle, "will prove to you that Ralph Elliot was
not drowned at sea, as you imagine, but that the nameless individual
whom in my person you have treated with unmerited insult, is none other
than he".

"It is false!" exclaimed Mr. Vernor, turning pale with rage. "This is
all a vile plot, got up in order to extort my consent to this marriage.
But I'll expose you--I'll--"

At this moment the library door was thrown violently open, and old Peter
Barnett, his face bleeding and discoloured, as if from fighting, and his
clothes torn and muddy, rushed into the centre of the apartment.

CHAPTER LV -- THE PURSUIT

"Let not search and inquisition fail to bring
again those... runaways."
--_As You Like It_.

"Fetch me that handkerchief,
My mind misgives."
--_Othello_.

"Sharp goads the spur, and heavy falls the stroke,
Rattle the wheels, the reeking horses smoke."
--_The Elopement_.

ON the sudden appearance of old Peter in the deplorable condition
described in the last chapter, we all sprang to our feet,