aper," he said, "is a certified copy of the register of the
marriage of Miss Eyrecourt to Mr. Winterfield, celebrated (as you
will see) by the English chaplain at Brussels, and witnessed by three
persons. Look at the names."

The bride's mother was the first witness. The two names that followed
were the names of Lord and Lady Loring. "_They_, too, in the conspiracy
to deceive me!" Romayne said, as he laid the paper back on the table.

"I obtained that piece of written evidence," Father Benwell proceeded,
"by the help of a reverend colleague of mine, residing at Brussels.
I will give you his name and address, if you wish to make further
inquiries."

"Quite needless. What is this other paper?"

"This other paper is an extract from the short-hand writer's notes
(suppressed in the reports of the public journals) of proceedings in an
English court of law, obtained at my request by my lawyer in London."

"What have I to do with it?"

He put the question in a tone of passive endurance--resigned to the
severest moral martyrdom that could be inflicted on him.

"I will answer you in two words," said Father Benwell. "In justice to
Miss Eyrecourt, I am bound to produce her excuse for marrying you."

Romayne looked at him in stern amazement.

"Excuse!" he repeated.

"Yes--excuse. The proceedings to which I have alluded declare Miss
Eyrecourt's marriage to Mr. Winterfield to be null and void--by the
English law--in consequence of his having been married at the time to
another woman. Try to follow me. I will put it as briefly as possible.
In justice to yourself, and to your future career, you must understand
this revolting case thoroughly, from beginning to end."

With those prefatory words, he told the story of Winterfield's first
marriage; altering nothing; concealing nothing; doing the fullest
justice to Winterfield's innocence of all evil motive, from first to
last. When the plain truth served his purpose, as it most assuredly did
in this case, the man has never yet been found who could match Father
Benwell at stripping himself of every vestige of reserve, and exhibiting
his naked heart to the moral admiration of mankind.

"You were mortified, and I was surprised," he went on, "when Mr.
Winterfield dropped his acquaintance with you. We now know that he acted
like an honorable man."

He waited to see what effect he had produced. Romayne was in no state of
mind to do justice to Winterfield or to any one. His pride was