"Sensible fellow, whoever he was, to throw a soaking towel round your face! First step everybody should take at a fire," observed Mr. Dugdale. "I'm told he had a pretty determined voice." "Giles' voice," murmured Phyllys. "If he was my build, probably a coal-heaver!" "O no—a gentleman!" "I wish he had stayed to be thanked." "John tried to make him, but he was in such a state, he said he would look in later. Not hurt—only blackened," added Mr. Dugdale. "We owe him something for his energy. Three minutes' delay might have made all the difference." Enter the stout butler, composed as always, but with curved eyebrows of intense amaze. "The gentleman is here, sir, that got in at the window. He asks to see Mrs. Keith." "Bring him in. We wish to thank him," spoke Giles. Fear seized Mrs. Keith. The thought might have occurred earlier, but for the bewildering effects of her fright. She rose, and put out protesting hands; but all eyes were turned to the door, and she sank back, knowing that it was too late. With more than usual emphasis the butler gave forth— "Mr. Jock Reeves!" Solid of figure and heavy of step, in walked an elderly, but most exact reproduction of Giles. It was Giles in form, Giles in bearing, Giles when he spoke in voice—but Giles as he would become years later, more stout, with streaks of grey. Phyllys knew him instantly as the "Giles" of Interlaken. He stopped, looked round, and smiled, as if in expectation of a welcome. Nobody spoke. The circle seemed stricken dumb. Giles, Colin, Mr. Dugdale, Phyllys, were as if petrified. The three men knew not what to think. Phyllys read confirmation of her midnight suggestion. Mrs. Keith hardly breathed. This was the moment that had hung before her as an awful possibility through years. Feature for feature he was Giles Randolph. And—his name was Jock Reeves. Brother to Mrs. Keith; uncle to Colin; no relative, not the most distant, of Giles. He did not seem embarrassed by his reception, perhaps ascribing it to insular shyness. He cheerfully accosted Giles:— "How d' you do, Colin? I've taken you all by surprise," with a jolly laugh. "You and I might be son and father! Glad to find my nephew so perfect a chip of the old block. Well, Cecil, my dear, I made up my mind to take the bull by the horns. Lucky I did and was at hand! You'll have guessed from my letter what I meant—eh?" He addressed himself anew to Giles.