Quiet as was the whisper, Mrs. Boazoph heard it, and moaned. "Never, never on this side of the grave," he wept. "My race is run; and weary have been my days. I never had a chance like other women. Once I was Madaline Garry, the darling of her father, the prettiest girl in Damington. But Francis Fellenger made me what I am. I curse him, living or dead, I curse him." She broke into hysterical laughter. "I revenged myself well. I put my child and his in the place of the heir. It was my son who reigned at Mere Hall; it was my son who spent the moneys of that evil family, and bore their title. I am glad of it; I am glad of it. The real heir--her child--had to work for his bread; but mine reigned in his place; he took the seat of his father. Of what use was it that Francis marked his son as he marked me? See," she cried, pulling up the sleeve of her dress. "Do you see this cross on my skin, you bloodhound of the law? Francis Fellenger marked me like that to show that I was his wife; yet he married another. Francis marked his legitimate son like that, yet the son ate the bread of strangers, and another sat in his seat. I have done my work, I have had my revenge, I am willing to die." "Are you willing that the son whom you disinherited should die at the hands of justice?" Mrs. Boazoph moaned, and hid her face in her hands. "Ah, no!" she said, in a plaintive voice. "He has suffered enough. My son is dead, so let the other take back his name and estates. My son is dead; he perished in the house of his mother; the mother who was too cowardly to avenge him, who was afraid to reveal the name of the assassin. My son is dead, but not by the hand of his half-brother did he meet with his death." "Then who killed him. Tell me," cried Fanks, eagerly. "You have sinned. Make what reparation you can for your sins while there is yet time. Look up, Madaline Garry, and tell me if that man slew your son?" While Fanks had been speaking, the door had opened softly, and Garth in the company of another man appeared on the threshold. The two stood spell-bound when they heard this speech of the detective; and Mrs. Boazoph turned her face slowly towards them. Suddenly she crushed down her weakness, and arose to her feet with miraculous strength. Stretching out her hand at the man who stood terror-stricken awaiting her words, she cried out in a shrill and triumphant voice: "Yonder is the man who killed my son; yonder is the man who must suffer in the place of Edward Hersham. You wish to know who came here as a negro and killed my son? There he stands--Herbert Vaud!" "I thought so," murmured Fanks, and the next instant he had the handcuffs on Vaud's wrists. CHAPTER XXXIII. HOW AND WHY THE DEED WAS DONE. The evidence of Mrs. Boazoph:--