“There remains one point, however,” resumed Sir Gilbert, “about which it may be as well to say a few words, so that, in time to come, no misapprehension in the matter may exist on the part of anyone concerned.” Again he cleared his voice. “When my son left England it was by my request. He was deeply involved in debt—not for the first or second time—and he applied to me, as he had done before, to extricate him from his difficulties. This I agreed to do on condition that he would go abroad and stay there till he should have my permission to return. He agreed to the condition and went. At the end of two years he wrote me to the effect that he was desirous of emigrating and pushing his fortunes in the United States, and that if I would pay over to him the sum of six thousand pounds he would sanction the cutting off of the family entail. It was an offer which, after consideration, I decided to accept. I had three other sons then living, and from what I knew of Alec it seemed clear to me that after my death he would simply make ducks and drakes of the property. Accordingly, I went out to Catanzaro, taking my lawyer with me. The six thousand pounds was paid over to my son, and in return he signed certain documents, by the provisions of which he cut himself off from all succession to the family estates. Now, I have only spoken of this fact at so much length because I wish it to be clearly understood that no right of succession to the Clare estates any longer exists, and that it is open to me to will every acre of land and every shilling of which I may die possessed, to whomsoever I may choose to constitute my heirs.” CHAPTER XVIII. THE FALSE HEIR Sir Gilbert Clare’s deliberate announcement, evidently not made without a purpose, that the family estates were no longer entailed, was one which carried dismay to the heart of Captain Verinder. His face fell on the instant, and for a little while the ruddy colour faded out of his cheeks. Although aware that the baronet’s eyes were glancing keenly from him to Giovanna, and then back, he could not for the life of him help showing that the blow had struck home. Sir Gilbert smiled grimly to himself. “As I thought, this fellow is at the bottom of the business,” he murmured, but this time not aloud. “It is he who has found me out and induced his niece to lay her case before me, evidently in the expectation of being able to feather his nest out of her, or me, or both of us. Well, we shall see. As regards his niece, I am more than ever inclined to believe in her. The story she told me was remarkably clear and straightforward. But _festina lente_ must still be my motto.”