And her own echoing genius swiftly accepted this magnificent apotheosis of her Cornish husband.  I became a new man in her eyes also.  With that marvellous power of make-believe, possible only to women of supreme genius, she swiftly conceived of me as something altogether different from Michael Pendean—­a creature richer and rarer—­and this effort of imagination enabled us both to create that solid appearance of a new and quickening understanding that so amply sufficed to deceive Bendigo Redmayne and delude Brendon.

It is impossible to exaggerate the unique entertainment we derived from this phase of our deception.  We proposed to let six months pass before the death of Bendigo Redmayne, and we were already contemplating details and considering how best to bring his brother back upon the stage for the purpose of Ben’s destruction, when Mark Brendon blundered in upon us once again.  He came very pat with calf love in his eyes; and it seemed that he might well assist us once more and apply his limited attainments to the problem of our sea wolf’s approaching exit.  Because we knew our Marco well, by this time, and perceived how useful he might be in disseminating that atmosphere of reality so desirable in cases such as these.

We were called upon to act quickly—­so quickly that the first steps were taken before the last had been fully planned; but the place, the time of long, dark nights and other circumstances—­these all lent value and assistance to the acute operations now undertaken.  I swiftly brought Robert Redmayne to life; and though, with more leisure for refinements, I should not have clothed him in his old attire, yet that crude detail possessed a value of its own and certainly served to deceive Brendon, who, before the sudden apparition under that night of storm, did not stop to be logical or weigh probability.  In the windy moonlight he saw the red head, huge mustache and brass-buttoned waistcoat of Robert Redmayne, and any question of detail escaped him in the whirl of the larger emotions and suspicions awakened by such an unexpected vision.

Doubtless he was thinking of Jenny and speculating with deep unrest how he might approach that lonely and lovely woman.  Nor had he missed my attractions and we may feel sure that jealousy shared his heart with passion.  Upon these reflections broke Redmayne, the murderer, and Marco’s first thought was doubtless unflattering to the residents of “Crow’s Nest.”  What he designed to do next morning I cannot say, but we determined his actions from the other end.  Having first appeared before him by Black Wood and lifted the curtain on the second act of my romantic comedy, I remained there a while, then ascended to Strete Farm and presently, in the small hours, awakened the farmer, showed myself stealing food and so hastily departed.

Thus a few hours later, when Giuseppe goes for the milk, he hears of the robbery, returns to “Crow’s Nest” and describes a man that Ben has no difficulty in recognizing as his brother, or Jenny as her uncle.  Robert Redmayne is on the war-path once more!