come upstairs, Miss Grant," she said; "and--and, yes,
you two gentlemen. Something strange, terrible, has happened."

Without a word, Mr. Jacobs signed to Celia to lead the way, placing the
packet in his pocket as she did so, and they followed her up to the
Marquess's room. He was lying back with his eyes closed; the doctor's
hand was on his pulse. Mr. Clendon was seated beside the bed, his hand
on the Marquess's shoulder. Mr. Clendon looked troubled, but was quite
calm.

"The Marquess has sent for you that you may hear something he has
resolved to tell you," he said, in a low voice.

The Marquess opened his eyes and looked round; then they fixed
themselves on Heyton, whom Mrs. Dexter had summoned, and who stood
regarding the group sullenly.

"Yes," said the Marquess, feebly, but quite distinctly. "I want to tell
you that this is my brother"--his hand reached for Mr. Clendon's--"my
elder brother. He is Lord Sutcombe, not I. He disappeared and was
supposed to have died. I knew some months ago that he was alive,
but----"

"Yielding to my earnest entreaty, my command, my brother consented to
conceal the fact," said Mr. Clendon, gravely.

"Yes, but it was wrong, Wilfred; and it was foolish," said the Marquess.
His eyes went to his son. "I am sorry, Percy. I believed that he was
dead; but I should have told you the moment I discovered the truth. Yes,
I see now that it was my duty to have done so."

Heyton had stood staring at the two old men dully; his sodden brain did
not realize at first the importance of the avowal; then the blood rushed
to his face and he stammered:

"What's all this? What's the meaning of this cock-and-bull story? I--I
don't understand. You don't suppose I'm going to cave in, accept this
fairytale? I'm your son--I'm the next in succession----"

"Yes," said the Marquess, with a deep sigh, and a look at his son which
Heyton understood and quailed from. "My brother is not married; you are
his heir--after me."

"I did not say I was not married, Talbot," said Mr. Clendon, almost
inaudibly. "I said that I had no son. But we will not dwell on that. If
I could have had my desire, the truth, my identity, would have been
buried with me."

"No, no," panted the Marquess; "even if you had not come to-day, I
should have told the truth, Wilfred. Would to God I had told it before!"

"Here, but look here!" Heyton broke out, with a kind of impatient
insolence. "This is all very well. This old man comes he