"Did you never think haw your father, during all your early childhood, held himself aloof from you, only according you his parental affection in later years; and that he may have had some reason for this conduct? Would not all these apparent contradictions be explained if you were not his own child, but an adopted son, whose dutiful and filial conduct at last aroused his genuine affection?" Paul, who had been leaning back in an arm-chair, here started to his feet. "What do you mean?" he exclaimed, in great agitation. "Such an idea never entered my mind; my brain whirls at the thought. But go on; to what does all this lead?" Leo obeyed, reminding Paul of the postmaster's narrative, of the suspicion awakened years before with regard to Herr von Heydeck,--a suspicion that he had, in connection with Dr. Putzer and his wife, caused the death of his son, to whose estate he had thus become heir. Formerly it had been whispered that Herr von Heydeck was not the child's father, but that the boy was the offspring of Frau von Heydeck and of Count Menotti. "There is where I heard the name!" Paul exclaimed; "but go on, go on! I am upon the rack of expectation!" Leo went on to speak of the cries which had been so often heard from the round tower after the child's death, and that no one save Herr von Heydeck himself and his half-idiotic servants had ventured to go near this part of the castle. He then told of his losing his way upon the previous afternoon, of his visit to the deserted room, of the cradle, and of his struggle with Melcher. From all this, taken in connection with his uncle's expressions and the doctor's talk, he drew the conclusion that possibly many years previously his uncle and Dr. Putzer had combined to remove from the world the unfortunate child which his uncle was convinced was not his own, but the son of Count Menotti. This was not effected by murder, of which vulgar gossip had accused them, but by the removal of the child whose little corpse no one but the doctor was allowed to see. For this purpose the haunted tower had been put to use; there they had kept the boy whose cries, heard in the silent night, had stricken with terror the superstitious villagers. Afterwards, for his perfect security, Herr von Heydeck must himself have removed the child. If this were so, and if the deceased Herr Delmar had been induced to adopt the forsaken boy, the strange provisions of his will were clearly explained, as were also the expressions of Herr von Heydeck and the doctor, who had both instantly recognized the resemblance of Delmar to Count Menotti, and were doubtless convinced that he had come to Tausens to lay claim to his inheritance and to the name and title of a Herr von Heydeck.