“So I perceive.  You are evidently a very emphatic gentleman.”

“If truth, sir, constitute emphasis, you shall find me so.”

“I attend to you, sir; and I give you notice, that when you shall have exhausted yourself, I have my explanation to demand; and, I promise you, a terrible one you shall find it.”

This the wily baronet said, in order, if possible, to confound the stranger, and throw him out of the directness of his purpose.  In this, however, he found himself mistaken.  The other proceeded: 

“You, Sir Thomas Gourlay, did, one night about eighteen years ago, as I said, engage a man, disguised in a mask for the purpose of concealing his features, to kidnap your brother’s child from Red Hall—­from this very house in which we both stand.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Sir Thomas, “I forgot that circumstance in the blaze of your eloquence; perhaps you will have the goodness to take a seat;” and in the same spirit of bitter sarcasm, he motioned him with mock courtesy, to sit down.  The other, pausing only until he had spoken, proceeded: 

“You engaged this man, I repeat, to kidnap your brother’s son and heir, under the pretence of bringing him to see a puppet-show.  Now, Sir Thomas Gourlay,” proceeded the stranger, “suppose that the friends of this child, kidnapped by you, shall succeed in proving this fact by incontestable evidence, in what position will you stand before the world?”

“Much in the same position in which I stand now.  In Red Hall, as its rightful proprietor, with my back probably to the fire, as it is at present.”

It is undeniable, however, that despite all this haughty coolness of the baronet, the charge involved in the statement advanced by the stranger stunned him beyond belief; not simply because the other made it, for that was a mere secondary consideration, but because he took it for granted that it never could have been made unless through the medium of treachery; and we all know that when a criminal, whether great or small, has reason to believe that he has been betrayed, his position is not enviable, inasmuch as all sense of security totters from under him.  The stranger, as he proceeded, watched the features of his auditor closely, and could perceive that the struggle then going on between the tumult of alarm within and the effort at calmness without, was more than, with all his affected irony and stoicism, he could conceal.

“But, perhaps,” proceeded the baronet, “you who presume to be so well acquainted with the removal of my brother’s child, may have it in your power to afford me some information on the disappearance of my own.  I wish you, however, to observe this distinction.  As the history you have given happens to be pure fiction, I should wish the other to be nothing but—­truth.”

“The loss of your child I regret, sir” (Sir Thomas bowed as before), “but I am not here to speak of that.  You perceive now that we have got a clew to this painful mystery—­to this great crime.  A portion of the veil is raised, and you may rest assured that it shall not fall again until the author of this injustice shall be fully exposed.  I do not wish to use harsher language.”