"Then in that case," said Vickers, "Miss Greyle is the owner of Scarhaven, of everything in the house, of every stick, stone and pebble, about the place! And we must act at once. Miss Greyle, you will have to assert yourself. You must do what I tell you to do. You must get ready at once--this minute!--and come down with me and Mrs. Greyle to that yacht and stop all these proceedings. In our presence you must lay claim to everything that's been taken from the house--yes, and to the yacht itself. Come, let's hurry!" Audrey hesitated and looked at Mrs. Greyle. "Very well," she said quietly. "But--not my mother." "No need!" said Vickers. "You will have us with you." Audrey hurried from the room, and Mrs. Greyle turned anxiously to Vickers. "What shall you do?" she asked. "Warn all concerned," answered Vickers, with a snap of the jaw which showed Copplestone that he was a man of determination. "Warn them, if necessary, that the man they have known as Marston Greyle is an impostor, and that everything they are handling belongs to Miss Greyle. The Scarhaven people know me, of course--there ought not to be any great difficulty with them--and as regards the yacht people--" "You know," interrupted Mrs. Greyle, "that this man--the impostor--has made himself very popular with the people here? You saw how they cheered him after the inquest? You don't think there is danger in Audrey going down there?" "Wouldn't it be enough if you and I went?" suggested Copplestone. "It's very late to drag Miss Greyle out." "I'm sorry, but it's absolutely necessary," said Vickers. "If your story is true--I mean, of course, since it is true--Miss Greyle is owner and mistress, and she must be on the spot. It's all we can do, anyway," he continued, as Audrey, wrapped in a big ulster, came back to the parlour. "Even now we may be too late. And if that yacht once sails away from here--" There were signs that the yacht's departure was imminent when they went down to the south quay and came abreast of her. The lights on the shore were being extinguished; the estate labourers were gone; only two or three sailors were busy with ropes and gear. And Vickers hurried his little party up a gangway and on to the deck. A hard-faced, keen-eyed, man, evidently in authority, came forward. "Are you the captain of this vessel?" demanded Vickers in tones of authority. "You are? I am Mr. Vickers, solicitor, of Norcaster. I give you formal warning that the man you have known as Marston Greyle is not Marston Greyle at all, but an impostor. All the property which you have removed from the house, and now have on this vessel, belongs to this lady, Miss Audrey Greyle, Lady of the Manor of Scarhaven. It is at your peril that you move it, or that you cause this vessel to leave this harbour. I claim the vessel and all that is on it on behalf of Miss Greyle."