"I went to sleep too after a time," continued Ben, "and when I woke, Barker was gone, and Field was sitting at the table writing for all he was worth. It was then I saw him steal old Wattie’s letter. He got me to sign something when I was coming round, but I was too mixed to know what it was. That’s the very paper you have there, with my signature at the foot. Next morning Field hurried me off with him at dawn, we having arranged beforehand to travel together to the south. I thought Wattie was still resting after the blow, and Field persuaded me not to disturb him, as he was asleep. We separated as soon as we reached the nearest station, and I never met him again until I found him here in Sunbury on my return home." "You lie!" thundered Mr. Field. "Every statement you have made is false! You confess that you were drunk, so how can you give any reliable account of what took place? Surely Barker’s deliberate attempt at suicide is enough to prove his acknowledgment of the crime. It is preposterous to try to lay it at my door. What witness can you bring to prove your accusation? It is only one man’s word against another, and I have as good a right as you to be believed." "There is a witness whom I can bring," answered Ben calmly, "and one whose evidence will be conclusive too." "Who is it, pray?" asked Mr. Field with a mocking laugh. "Old Wattie himself," was Ben’s reply. As he said the words, Mr. Field suddenly threw up his hands, and staggering to a chair, fell back unconscious upon the cushions. *CHAPTER XX* *Good Hope* All was commotion and confusion at Farncourt as servants hurried hither and thither, and a message was sent off to the doctor to come without delay to the assistance of the master of the big house, who meanwhile lay so helpless within its walls. "It was a stroke," said Ben to Mrs. Power, as he stood in her little parlour giving an account of the sudden seizure. "They say he may regain consciousness towards the end, but there is no hope that he can recover." "How did it come on?" asked Madelaine. "He seemed quite well when I saw him yesterday." "The two American gentlemen are coming to explain," answered Ben, "as it has something to do with you, Mrs. Power. They will be here in a few minutes." "Something to do with me!" repeated Madelaine in astonishment. "I don’t understand." A motor drew up to the gate as she spoke, and she was soon listening to the strange tale. Clearly and concisely did Judge Simmons lay the whole case before her, dwelling as gently as he could upon the sick man’s guilt, but demonstrating to her in no uncertain terms the cruel deception which had been practised upon her husband, blighting his life for so long. "Do you mean to say that Gerald is entirely innocent?" she asked, hardly able to take in the wonderful news. "Am I right in believing that he did not even strike old Mr. Long--much less kill him?"