"The police will be here directly--keep him till they come!" cried the General at the top of his voice. "I shall give him in charge! He is the murderer Westwood, the man who killed my bother, Sydney Vane, and afterwards escaped from Portland Prison, where he was undergoing a life sentence! I remember the man perfectly. Sabina Meldreth, you can identify him?" "Oh, yes, I can identify him!" said Sabina curtly. "He's Miss West's father, anyway--and we all know who that was. We heard her call him 'father' just now her very self." The servants tightened their grasp on the man's arm. But at that moment an interruption occurred. The drawing-room door was flung open, and Hubert Lepel, ghastly pale, and staggering a little as he moved, appeared upon the scene. "This must go no further," he said. "Keep the police away, and let this man go. He is not Sydney Vane's murderer." "Don't interfere, sir!" shouted the General from the stairs. "This is Westwood, the man who escaped from Portland--and back to Portland he shall go!" "It is Westwood, I know," said Herbert, supporting himself against the door-post, and looking down calmly upon the excited group below; "but Westwood was not a murderer. General, you have been mistaken all this time. I wish to make a statement of the truth--it was I who killed Sydney Vane! Now do what you like!" CHAPTER L. A sudden hush fell upon the group. Each looked at the others aghast. The general opinion was that Mr. Lepel's fever had returned upon him and that he was raving. But at least three persons knew or suspected that he spoke only the truth. "He's mad--delirious!" said the General angrily. "Take him back to his room, some of you, and help me to secure the criminal!" "You had better come here and listen to my story first," said Hubert, still clutching at the door to steady himself. "Keep the police down-stairs for five minutes, General, if you please. Neither Westwood nor I shall escape in that time. Jenkins, drop that gentleman's arm!" Jenkins relinquished his hold of Westwood's arm with great promptitude. Cynthia said a few words to him in an undertone which sent him down-stairs at once. She had heard the front door open and shut, and believed that the police had come. They, at least, could be detained for a few minutes--she had no hope of anything more; but she felt that Hubert's confession should be made to his own relatives first of all. She ran to his side and gave him her arm to lean upon, conducting him back to the drawing-room; and thither the others followed her in much agitation and perturbation of mind. The General was almost foaming at the mouth with rage; Miss Vane looked utterly blank and stupefied; Flossy's face was white as snow; Sabina watched the scene with stolid and sullen curiosity; while Westwood marched into the drawing-room with the air of a proud man unjustly assailed.