"Then who are Mr. Blake's parents?" "Patience Allerby and myself." Una arose from her seat with an angry colour in her cheeks. "You--you Reginald's father--impossible!" "It's perfectly true," he replied calmly. "Patience Allerby came up to London many years ago with me, and when Reginald was born she left me and came down here, bringing up our son under another name. I, as you know, came to Garsworth some time ago, and saw her again, but she asked me to say nothing, so I obeyed her, but now that I find she has committed a fraud, of which you are the victim, I naturally hasten to put it right." "Did Mr. Blake know he was not the heir?" "He did from the first," asserted Beaumont audaciously. "I have no doubt his mother told him his true birth, and knowing the Squire's mania about re-incarnation they made this conspiracy up together in order to defraud you of the property." "So Mr. Blake has deceived me?" said Una, in an unnaturally quiet tone. "Yes, he has deceived you all along. I have no doubt he prepared all the forged documents which proved his identity with the supposed son, and counted on your love for him not to prosecute should anything be discovered. I'm glad I have been able to warn you in time. You will never marry him now." "But the property; do you think he will keep the property?" "He will try to I've no doubt," said Beaumont gravely, "but if you intrust your case to experienced hands, I have no doubt he will be made to disgorge his plunder." "But to whom can I turn?" said Una helplessly. "I have no friend." Beaumont arose to his feet, and came close to her. "Yes, you have one--myself." "You?" she cried, recoiling with a shudder. "Yes. I love you passionately, Una, and if you will be my wife, I will recover your property for you." "But--your own son?" "I despise a son who could act as Reginald has done. I came down here expecting to find an honourable man, but instead I discover a scoundrel, a forger, and a thief." "Is it all true what you have said?" murmured Una, looking straight at him. "All true," he answered solemnly, "I swear it." "You liar!" He started back in amazement, for she was facing him like an enraged tigress, with crimson cheeks and blazing eyes. "What do you mean?" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Mean?" she repeated scornfully. "That I know all, Basil Beaumont. Do you see this letter? I received it from your unhappy son this morning, giving me back the property and revealing the whole of your nefarious scheme. I know who forged the documents--you! I know who hoped to enjoy the money through Reginald--you! I know who comes with lies on his lips to part me from the only man I love--you! Yes--you! you! you!" The baffled schemer stood nervously fingering his hat, with a white sullen face, all his courage having left him. So mean, so cowardly, so despicable he looked, shrinking back against the wall before this young girl, who towered over him like an inspired Pythoness.