It was an unusual occurrence for Geoffrey Huntress to lose his self-possession under any circumstances; but just then he felt himself to be in a very painful position, for every moment he shrank more and more from revealing his half-brother’s wretched plot, and he was greatly relieved by a little stir in the hall at that moment, which attracted Colonel Mapleson’s attention from him. The next instant the library door was flung open, and Everet, himself, pale and travel-stained, stood before the astonished group. “Ha!” he cried, catching sight of Geoffrey. “So you have stolen a march on me! trying, I suppose, to browbeat the governor into confessing that romantic liaison of his youth.” “_Everet!_” exclaimed his father, turning sternly upon him, an angry flush mounting to his brow, at this rude intrusion; “what do you mean by rushing in here like this, addressing my guests in such an abrupt way, not to mention your exceedingly disrespectful language regarding myself?” “Your _guests_! Why don’t you present them to me, or are you a trifle delicate about introducing Annie Dale’s son to _me_?” retorted the young man, in a nervous, unnatural manner. “Silence, sir!” thundered Colonel Mapleson, looking perfectly aghast at this strange behavior on the part of his usually courteous son. “What do _you_ know of Annie Dale?” he continued; “and why do you speak of this young man in that sneering way?” “I know a great deal about Annie Dale and the suspicious life she led in a certain mining district for a year,” Everet retorted, with reckless scorn. He had been wrought to the highest pitch of angry excitement by finding Geoffrey and Mr. Huntress there before him. “I know,” he went on, “how she was enticed away by the promise of a marriage which never took place, and how she afterward died—doubtless of a broken heart—leaving a nameless brat to inherit her shame.” “Everet! you have suddenly taken leave of your senses! I believe you _are_ in the delirium of fever,” returned his father, regarding his now flushed face and glittering eyes with alarm. “But have a care over your words. How on earth you have become possessed of such strange notions is more than I can account for.” “I can easily enlighten you. I have a couple of letters in my possession that were written by Annie Dale’s lover, which will prove all that I have hinted at; and I found a very pretty ring, too, last summer, during my travels—not a _wedding-ring_, either, mind you. I doubt if she ever had that—which was lost, on the very spot where she had lived and died.” He drew both letters and ring from one of his pockets, as he spoke, and flung them upon the table, before his father.