“Further, it may be as well to open Sir Gilbert Clare’s eyes to a fact in respect of which he seems to have been deliberately hoodwinked. Luigi Rispani is _not_ his grandson, but merely a nephew of the woman who married John Alexander Clare. The said John Alexander Clare had but one child—a daughter—who died when a few months old. In accepting Luigi Rispani as his grandson Sir Gilbert Clare has allowed himself to be made the victim of a fraud. “ONE WHO KNOWS.” For full ten minutes after he had finished reading the note Sir Gilbert sat without moving, his eyes closed and his chin sunk on his breast. So old and worn and white did he look that he might have been taken for one already dead. Many times in his life had he drunk deep of the waters of bitterness, but perhaps never before had they tasted so utterly bitter. For the moment his soul cried out, “I can bear no more! Give me death—give me anything rather than this!” But presently the strong man within him, which was not yet wholly overcome, began to reassert itself, and a voice seemed to say to him, “If what you have just heard be the truth, then is it better that the truth should be known, at whatever cost to yourself and others. Anything is better than that you should remain the unwitting participant in a living lie.” He opened his eyes, sighed and sat up. What a change had come over his life in a few short minutes! Presently he touched the handbell on the table, to which Trant, who had been listening for it, at once responded. “Present my compliments to Lady Pell, and tell her that I am very desirous of having a word with her here, and as soon as Mr. Lisle arrives request him to come to me.” He felt that he must share his burden with someone; it was too weighty to be borne alone. Lady Pell was quickly on the scene. “Sit down, Louisa, and oblige me by reading this, which was brought me a few minutes ago,” said Sir Gilbert as he handed her the letter. She took it without a word. When she had read to the end, she turned a scared face on her kinsman. “This is indeed terrible, if it be true,” she said as she gave him back the letter. “Here is the key of the strong room to confirm it.” At this juncture Everard Lisle entered the room. At sight of Lady Pell he was about to retire, but Sir Gilbert motioned to him to come forward. “Read this, which was found on my study table about half-an-hour ago,” he said. Lisle, standing within a yard of his elbow, did as he was told. He, too, was utterly dumbfoundered and for a few moments knew not what to say. Then a thought struck him. “According to this, sir, Mr. Lewis is still locked up in the strong room.” “Aye—like a rat in a trap,” replied the Baronet grimly. “Suppose we go and release him and hear what he has to say for himself. Do you take the key, Lisle. Come, Louisa; I must ask you to keep us company. This seems to me an affair which may necessitate the presence of witnesses.”