Owain was content to go alone, although he felt slightly nervous. His strongest card, should anything come out, was that he had not known Evans, and therefore had no reason to kill him. And by this time he was growing used to the situation, since Madame Alpenny was holding her tongue. Why she acted in this kind way he could not understand, but accepted the explanation provided by Vane. However, if he came into money she probably would find him out and move in the matter. Therefore it was with some reluctance that Hench went to Gilberry & Gilberry's office in Lincoln's Inn Fields. He wanted to let sleeping dogs lie, and was unwilling to become rich, as by doing so he would certainly bring Madame Alpenny down on his head. All the same, Hench felt very curious when he faced the white-headed old gentleman who was the head of the firm, and was rather astonished by the warmth of the greeting he received. "I am glad to see you," said Mr. Gilberry heartily. "You come in the nick of time, my dear young friend." "To do what, sir?" "To inherit ten thousand a year." "What?" Owain became pale with amazement. Gilberry chuckled. "Oh yes. It is as I say, Mr. Evans." "What?" cried Owain again, and this time louder, with a quavering voice. "Of course; of course," the old man chuckled once more. "You think that your name is Hench. Not so; not so. You are Owain Evans of Rhaiadr, the heir of Squire Madoc Evans, of Cookley Grange, in Essex." "And--and--what relation am I to--to--to----" "Oh, yes. You don't know. Why, my dear sir, Madoc Evans was your uncle." Owain gasped, and turned as white as the corpse he had seen in Parley Wood. CHAPTER VIII FAMILY HISTORY Like M. Jourdain in Moliere's comedy, Vane was only surprised when he found virtue in unexpected places, but he certainly was astonished in another direction when Hench stumbled into his chambers white-faced, wild-eyed and trembling. The barrister hastily arose and supported his friend to a chair, and as hastily produced a glass of brandy to hold to his lips. "Drink this, Owain," he commanded, wondering what had happened to put his visitor in such a state. "Don't say a word until you feel better." Hench drank the whole glassful of fiery liquor, and the colour began to return to his wan cheeks. He did not speak, as requested, but sat in the chair with a broken-down look, which startled Vane more than he showed. Looking anxiously at his friend he came to the sole conclusion he could come to, seeing what he knew in connection with Hench's adventure. "Madame Alpenny has found you out?" Hench shook his head. "It's worse than that," he muttered faintly. "Then the worse it is the better you should brace yourself up to face it," was Vane's irritable retort. "Have another glass of brandy, although I don't approve of Dutch courage myself." "No. No more brandy. Wait a bit. I'll soon pull round."