“Oh!” interrupted Gerald, “there’s worse to come.”

“What?” said Lance, aghast.

“She says,” and a sort of dry sob cut him short, “she says she had a husband when she married my father,” and down went his head again.

“Impossible,” was Lance’s first cry; “your father’s first care was to tell Travis all was right with you.  Travis has the certificates.”

“Oh yes, it was no fault of my father-—my father, my dear father-—no, but she deceived him, and I am an impostor-—nobody.”

“Gently, gently, Gerald.  We have no certainty that this is true.  Your father had known her for years.  Tell me, how did it come out—- what evidence did she adduce?”

Gerald nerved himself to sit up and speak collectedly.

“I believe it is half that circus fellow’s doing.  I think she is going to marry him, if she hasn’t already.  She followed me, and just at the turn down this road, as I was bidding the Mona girl goodnight, she came up with me, and said I little thought that the child was my sister, and how delightful it was to see us acting together.  Well then, I can’t say but a horror came over me.  I couldn’t for the life of me do anything but draw back, there was something so intolerable in the look of her eyes, and her caressing manner,” and he shuddered, glad of his uncle’s kind hand on his shoulder.  “Somehow, I let her get me out upon the high ground, and there she said, ’So you are too great a swell to have word or look for your mother.  No wonder, you always were un vilain petit miserable; but I won’t trouble you-—I wouldn’t be bound to live your dull ennuyant ladies’ life for millions.  I’ll bargain to keep out of your way; but O’Leary and I want a couple of hundred pounds, and you’ll not grudge it to us.’  I had no notion of being blackmailed, besides I haven’t got it, and I told her she might know that I am not of age, and had no such sum ready to hand.  She was urgent, and I began to think whether I could do anything to save that poor little sister, when she evidently got some fresh impulse from the man, and began to ask me how I should like to have it all disclosed to my nobs of friends.  Well, I wasn’t going to be bullied, and I answered that my friends knew already, and she might do her worst.  ‘Oh, may I?’ she said; ’you wouldn’t like, my fine young squire, to have it come out that I never was your father’s wife at all, and that you are no more than that gutter-child.’  I could not understand her at first, and said I would not be threatened, but that made her worse, and that rascal O’Leary came to her help.  They raised their demands somehow to five hundred, and declared if they had not it paid down, they should tell the whole story and turn me out.  Of course I said they were welcome.  Either I am my father’s lawful son, or I am not, and if not, the sooner it is all up with me the better, for whatever I am, I am no thief and robber.  So I set off and came down the hill; but the brute kept pace with me to this very door, trying to wheedle me, I believe.  And now what’s to be done?  I would go off at once, and let Uncle Clem come into his rights, only I don’t want to be the death of him and Cherie.”