"No," cried Charvington, "I shan't." "If you don't," said the solicitor very quietly, "I shall wash my hands of this matter. Already Hale and his heiress are waiting in the ante-chamber, and if your voice is recognised, they will not come in." "Why not?" "Because I believe that this is another of Hale's wicked schemes. Let me hear the whole invention he has made up, and then I can call upon you to substantiate the story." "But I can't wait. I want to know who this girl is." "Can't you guess?" demanded Jabez, leading him deftly to the door of the inner room where he wished him to wait. "I can do more than guess, I know." "Humph," muttered Jabez, "I thought so." "You thought what?" "Never mind. If you know rightly, you will be able to help me." Charvington stamped. "I believe it's all lies. I want to see this girl." "Well," said Jabez resignedly. "I shall do a thing I have never done before since you will not be quiet otherwise. In the panel of this door there is a small knot-hole. Look in and see if----" Charvington rushed into the room, dragging Walker after him, and closed the door. Shortly afterwards they heard the entrance of two people. The old man applied an eye to the knot-hole. Then he laughed silently and made George apply his eye. "Look at the heiress," he said sneeringly. Walker looked eagerly and saw--Maud Ellis. CHAPTER XXIII ONE PART OF THE TRUTH It was indeed Maud Ellis who entered on the arm of Mr. Hale. She was carefully dressed and, as usual, had made the best of her looks, such as they were. But she appeared to be anxious--to be strung up to fighting-pitch--after the manner of a woman who anticipated that she was not going to get her own way without a battle. On her entrance, she measured the lean lawyer with the eye of an antagonist, and then sat down in the chair which he politely pushed forward. As to Walter Hale, he looked much the same as he always did, cool, polished, and composed. Of course, he was perfectly arrayed in Bond Street taste, and his manners were as irreproachable as was his costume. If Miss Ellis was nervous, Hale assuredly was not. To Jabez, he suggested a bowie-knife--an odd comparison, but one which came unexpectedly into the lawyer's unimaginative brain. "You know, of course, Mr. Jabez," said Hale when seated, "what I have come to see you about." The solicitor, who had taken his usual chair before the table, nodded and pointed to Hale's letter which lay on the blotting-paper before him. "To produce the amethyst cross," said he gravely. "And something more important than the cross. Allow me," Hale stood up to give his words due effect, "to present to you, Miss Katherine Morse----" "Oh," interrupted Jabez drily, "I understood from you that she died in your Wimbledon house years ago." "You are thinking of my mother," put in Maud boldly. "She, indeed, is dead; but I am her child and am called after her." "Even to the name of Morse?"