“That is best, that is best just as it is,” he said, emphatically; “you do not want to be hampered with any obligations she might impose upon you, and as for ever recognizing or acknowledging any relationship, it is not to be thought of for one moment.  Your course was right, perfectly right.  But what was the statement of such importance which she was to make?”

“That is just what I am coming to,” the young man replied; and drawing his chair closer to those of his companions, he repeated in low tones the secret intrusted to him by Mrs. LaGrange.  The faces of the two men were a study as he ended his recital.

“Are you confident that she spoke the truth?” questioned Mr. Barton eagerly.

“I am positive that she did; she seemed like one terror-stricken, and said that the horror of it had haunted her day and night.”

“There could be no reason in this instance for doubting her,” commented Mr. Scott, thoughtfully; “she would have no motive for making such a statement if it were not true.”

“My dear Mainwaring!” exclaimed the attorney, “it is what I have suspected ever since you gave me the details of the affair; you remember what I told you before we left London!”

“Certainly; but it seemed to me then too improbable.”

“The improbable is, sometimes, what we must look for in cases like this,” he replied; “McCabe should be put on to this immediately, and we must call Sutherland.  I will summon him, myself, at once,” and he left the room.

The foster-father and son, left for a few moments to themselves, had little to say, but sat looking into each other’s faces with eyes full of meaning, each understanding what was in the other’s heart.  At last, as they heard returning footsteps, the elder man spoke,-

“It was a good thing you went there, my boy; come what may, you will never regret it.”

“Never!” the other replied with emphasis.

It seemed but a few moments ere hurried steps were heard along the corridor, followed by a light, familiar knock, and Mr. Sutherland entered.

“I recognized your voice at the ’phone, Mr. Barton,” said the attorney, after greetings had been exchanged, “and something in its tone, aside from the general import of your message, led me to believe that the call was of special importance, therefore I lost no time in coming here.”

“You were correct,” replied the English barrister; “we have made a most important discovery, bearing not only upon the case in hand, but also upon the Mainwaring murder case.”

“Ah-h!” responded the attorney with evident interest; then drawing his chair near the group seated about the open fire, he asked, with a swift glance about the room, “But where is your ‘clerk,’ Mr. Barton?  Should he not be present?”

“My ‘clerk!’” replied Mr. Barton, with peculiar emphasis, and plainly appreciating the humor of the inquiry; “my ‘clerk’ is, I believe, at present engaged in most assiduously cultivating the acquaintance of Ralph Mainwaring’s coachman.”