"I can explain that very easily," replied Beaumont, taking some papers out of his breast coat pocket. "When I came down here a few months ago, I heard of the Squire's madness regarding his re-incarnation, and by means of a hypnotic sleep I found out from his own lips that he intended to leave all his property to a fictitious son, who was to be himself in a new body. Being under my control in the hypnotic state, he showed me where the paper and ring were hidden. I took them from their hiding place and filled up the paper with your name and that of Fanny Blake. I then enclosed the ring and paper in an envelope which the Squire had directed to you, resealed it, and, getting the keys of his desk, placed them therein, where they were found. You understand?" "I understand; but why did the Squire direct an envelope to me?" "Because he wanted to help you, and wrote this letter and this cheque, which he enclosed in an envelope to be given to you by your mother. I used the envelope as I explained, and kept the letter and cheque by me. Here they are as a proof of the truth." Reginald took up the papers the artist placed upon the table and glanced over them, then placed them in his pocket, and turning away took up his hat. "Where are you going?" asked Beaumont, alarmed at his action. "I am going to see Dr. Larcher and tell him all," answered his son sternly. "What other course is there for me to take?" "To hold your tongue," said the artist eagerly. "Surely you're not such a fool as to give up possession of an estate like this for a mere feeling of honour. Pay me a stated income and I will hold my tongue. Your mother will be silent for her own sake, so no one will know the truth." Reginald looked at him with unutterable contempt. "After bringing me so low as you have done do you think I am going to sink lower of my own free will?" he said in a scornful tone. "No! a thousand times no. I would not keep this property another day if it were ten million a year. I see what your plan has been--to threaten me with exposure if I did not bribe you to silence. You have mistaken me. I am not so base as that. This property shall go back to its rightful owner, and you will not receive one penny either from her or from me." "I am your father." "You are my father--yes, God help me! If I am to believe this story you are my father--a father I despise and loathe. One question more I only ask--are you my mother's husband?" "No," said Beaumont sullenly, "I am not." Reginald turned a shade paler and laughed bitterly. "What have I done to be punished like this?" he said, raising his face in agony. "You have taken away the wealth I wrongfully possessed, you have deprived me of my good name, of my self-respect, but, as God is above us, you shall not make me vile in my own sight by doing your wicked will."' Another moment and the door closed, so that Patience and Beaumont were alone. Rising from her seat she took off her bonnet.