“A person has discovered that you are not the legitimate son of your father—that he was married to another woman before he ever saw your mother. That woman he forsook, believing the marriage only a farce, and wedded your mother. The first marriage has been proved legal, and a friend of the first wife is now on your father’s track, with the rightful son, to make him acknowledge him. They thought there would be less trouble about the matter if you were out of the way, and that is one reason why you are here.” “It is false, every word of it!” burst in indignant amazement from Robert’s pale and quivering lips, while the perspiration started from every pore. He arose and paced the floor, in mingled grief, mortification, and rage, at the stain thus cast upon his name—the name which he had always been taught to believe was spotless. He would not believe it; for did it not blast every hope that he had cherished from his boyhood up to the present time? He could not claim Dora if it were true! He had no right to her; for he had no name to give her. His heart almost withered within him at the thought, and even the chief cast looks of pity upon his white, agonized face, as he sank, with a despairing cry, into a chair and bowed his head upon his hands. “It is all a base conspiracy!” “False or true,” resumed the other, “that is what I have been informed is the fact. But that is not the principal reason why you are confined here.” “Then for Heaven’s sake tell me what it is, or I shall go mad,” groaned Robert. “A young man has become very much enamored of a young lady, and wishes to marry her; but he says you imagine you have a prior claim upon her—some foolish childish ceremony or betrothal, and that if you were allowed to remain at liberty it would interrupt all his plans with reference to her. When they are united, then you are to have your freedom.” “Tell me the name of this fiend in human form, whose brain but plans ruin for fellow-mortals. Tell me! I will know it!” Robert sprang fiercely to his feet and confronted his captor with clenched hands. The veins upon his forehead were hard and knotted. Like a hero of the ancient times, every nerve trembled, every muscle was on the stretch; rage and contempt, hate and revenge were in all his features; and for a moment Weilman Weichel dropped his eyes in confusion. “Tell me,” repeated Robert, huskily, “for by all the gods, the villain whoever he is, shall dearly pay for this!” “I cannot, Herr Ellerton; and I beg you will calm yourself. This passion is of no earthly use,” the chief coldly replied. “Heavens! what a conspiracy I am the victim of, and not to know who my enemies are! To be struck by a hidden foe is worse than all else; let them but come to open warfare, and equal combat, and I will battle to the death! Chief, I tell you, you are as vile as they, with your complicity in the affair.”