"’Tis found!" cried Harry, springing up in excitement. "We call the name Barkley in England; Madame, Monsieur le Comte was the son of Mr. Berkeley’s sister; he is the squire of my own village Winton St. Mary; without a doubt it is his estates to which Mademoiselle is heiress. What a discovery we have made!" "Stay, Harry," said Mynheer Grootz quietly; "did you not tell me that your squire has a son?" "Yes, yes, but now I remember: at home I have heard it said that Mr. Berkeley was lord of the manor only by default of other heirs: yes, it comes back to me now: the villagers did not like him; they grudged him his estate; he was stepson of the former squire, and step-brother of the lady who became Comtesse de Vaudrey." "Still I do not understand. The lady had a brother—the gentleman whose name was Eustace; being employed in state business, to do with the restoration of your King Charles, I think, he was doubtless the elder of the two: he would be his father’s heir, and his children after him. The letter, you see, announces his approaching marriage." "You are right, Mynheer. I heard him talked of, too; he was killed in a fray with highwaymen on the Dover road, when he was returning from France, after King Charles came back, to claim his estates. Yes, the squire’s family history is well known in the village; but I never heard of a Mistress Eustace Berkeley; perhaps the marriage did not take place after all." "It would seem so." "It must be so," cried Harry. "Do you not now see Captain Aglionby’s part? When he stayed with you, Madame, six years ago, he must have discovered Monsieur le Comte’s relationship with Mr. Berkeley; that explains his hold over the squire; it explains also the scheme arranged between him and Monsieur de Polignac. Indeed, it is clear as daylight: the captain bled Mr. Berkeley on pretence of keeping his secret; and he sold that secret to Polignac." "The odious man!" exclaimed Madame de Vaudrey, who sat in a state of perfect amazement as link after link was added to the chain. "A very villain!" said Grootz, smiting the table. "Madame, it appears that Adèle is indeed the rightful owner of the estates now held by this miscreant Berkeley, and I, Jan Grootz, will make it my business, as soon as I am recovered, to see that right is done." "And it is to Harry that we owe it all! Oh, my dear Harry, Adèle shall thank you! If only my dear husband could have lived to bless you too!" "Zo!" exclaimed Grootz. "But, Madame, I have a thing to say. Adèle shall thank Harry; yes; but I say tell her nothing until I have been to London, and with the aid of English law have overthrown the villain Berkeley. It will be best; yes, it will be best." "Very well, my friend. Dear Adèle! to think of her as lady of an English manor! She has thought much of her English grandmother: she will love to live in England; I have no English blood in me, and I dread the sea; but I must live with her, of course I must."