Squire Brady was greatly flustered by the sudden appearance in his humble establishment of this titled visitor; but, reassured by his cordial greeting, he gathered up his wits, and saying that he had a communication of the greatest importance to make to him, begged his lordship to step into his private office for a moment. Somewhat puzzled, and wondering what it could be, the young man good-naturedly consented. After the door had been carefully closed, and his visitor had refused an offered chair, the worthy shopkeeper and ex-butler said, mysteriously, “My lord, I have every reason to believe that the heir to Tresmont has appeared.” “Yes, so have I.” “And that he is a young man.” “Yes.” “From America.” “Yes, I know.” “Who was picked up at sea when an infant.” “Certainly; I know that. Anything else?” “He is the own son of Mr. Tristram and his American wife.” “Of course he is.” “And he’s got evidence to prove who he is.” “I examined his evidence in London yesterday.” “But he was not in London.” “I saw him there, I tell you.” “He spent last night in my house, your lordship.” “Who on earth are you talking about, Brady?” “The young gentleman who came on your lordship’s yacht, and who calls himself Breeze McCloud, but who is really your lordship’s own cousin, Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont.” “Come, come, Brady! you don’t know what you are talking about,” said Lord Seabright, impatiently. “I left Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont in London yesterday, and he is no more Breeze McCloud than I am. Whatever have you got into your head?” “But, your lordship,” persisted the shopkeeper, now considerably excited, “this young gentleman wears the golden puzzle-ball fast to a chain around his neck that was give to Mr. Tristram by his wife, which I saw it with my own eyes on him when he was a blessed infant in his carriage.” “So does the Sir Tristram Coffin Tresmont now in London wear a golden chain from which hangs a golden puzzle-ball, as you call it, that was fastened around his baby neck by his father, to whom it was presented by his wife. Is there anything more?” “Well, I am beat!” gasped the astonished shopkeeper, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “So am I,” said Lord Seabright. “It’s bad enough to have to give up a fine property that I have for some time considered my own; but to have two claimants to it appear at once, and each of them producing the same proof of his identity, is a little too much. Have you any other reason for thinking this young friend of yours is what he claims to be?” For answer the shopkeeper opened the door, and calling Breeze into the office, asked him to show his lordship the locket he wore about his neck. Breeze produced the ball, opened it, and offered it for Lord Seabright’s inspection. “Exactly the same,” said he, looking at it carefully. Then Breeze touched the inside spring, and displayed the three tiny locks of hair, and the inscription on the under side of the plate.