the mother, had sinned
and had sought a watery grave beneath the waves. I screened myself,
and watched to see what would become of the child, as I saw a man's
form approaching in the distance.

"I fairly caught my breath as he drew near. I saw it was my own
husband, whom I had so cruelly deserted years ago--your father, Pluma,
who never even knew or dreamed of your existence.

"Carefully he lifted the basket and the sleeping babe. How he came in
that locality I do not know. I found, by some strange freak of fate,
he had taken the child home to his aunt Taiza, and there the little
one remained until the spinster died.

"Again, a few years later, I determined to visit Whitestone Hall, when
a startling and unexpected surprise presented itself. Since then I
have believed in fate. All unconscious of the strange manner in which
these two men's lives had crossed each other, I found Basil Hurlhurst
had engaged my own husband, and your father, John Brooks, for his
overseer."

Pluma gave a terrible cry, but the woman did not heed her.

"I dared not betray my identity then, but fled quickly from Whitestone
Hall; for I knew, if all came to light, it would be proved without a
doubt you were not the heiress of Whitestone Hall.

"I saw a young girl, blue-eyed and golden-haired, singing like a lark
in the fields. One glance at her face, and I knew she was Basil
Hurlhurst's stolen child fate had brought directly to her father's
home. I questioned her, and she answered she had lived with Taiza
Burt, but her name was Daisy Brooks."

"It is a lie--a base, ingenious lie!" shrieked Pluma. "Daisy Brooks
the heiress of Whitestone Hall! Even if it were true," she cried,
exultingly, "she will never reign here, the mistress of Whitestone
Hall. She is dead."

"Not exactly!" cried a ringing voice from the rear; and before the two
women could comprehend the situation, the detective sprung through the
silken curtains, placing his back firmly against the door. "You have
laid a deep scheme, with a cruel vengeance; but your own weapons are
turned against you. Bring your daughter forward, Mr. Hurlhurst. Your
presence is also needed, Mr. Brooks," he called.

CHAPTER XL.

Not a muscle of Pluma Hurlhurst's face quivered, but the woman uttered
a low cry, shrinking close to her side.

"Save me, Pluma!" she gasped. "I did it for your sake!"

Basil Hurlhurst slowly put back the curtain, and stepped into the
room, clasping his long-lost d