"Well, he might have told her about Marlow. At all events, I'll see her. You know," added Alan, curling his lip, "Mrs. Warrender is fond of money, and amenable to bribery." Thorold was usually correct in his forecasts of what would happen, but this time he was quite wrong. The widow received him kindly, and told him absolutely nothing. Acting on the advice given her by Cicero, she had been searching through the papers of her late husband. She had not found what she sought, but she had found quite enough to show that there was a mystery in Mr. Marlow's past life--a mystery which was sufficiently important to be worth money. It was the intention of this astute woman to play her own game, a game which had for stake a goodly portion of Sophy's millions, and she had no desire for a partner. To Cicero and to his wish to join her she soon gave the go-by. And when Alan came upon the scene, she gave him to understand that she knew nothing. Her intention was to prepare her bombshell alone, and when it was ready, to explode it in Sophy's presence. That her knowledge would be profitable to her from a financial point of view she felt pretty secure, for the same blood ran in the veins of Clara Maria Warrender and of Cicero Gramp. "I wish I could help you, Mr. Thorold," she said; "but I knew nothing of Mr. Marlow. My husband never spoke to me about his life in Jamaica." "Did he leave any papers?" "Lots of rubbish, but nothing that could enlighten us as to Mr. Marlow's past." "Can I see them?" "Oh, I am so sorry, but I burnt them." He did not believe her, and went away with the conviction that she was playing a deep game. Meanwhile a new personage had come upon the scene--a man who told an astonishing story, and who made a no less astonishing claim--a slight, dark, bright-eyed man, accurately dressed, but foreign looking. He presented his card at the Moat House, with a request to see Miss Marlow. "Captain Lestrange!" exclaimed Sophy. "Who is he, Thomas?" "Looks like a foreigner, miss. Shall I show him in?" "Yes," she said; and the visitor was announced almost immediately. He started theatrically when he saw the girl. Sophy, annoyed by his manner, drew back. "Captain Lestrange?" she queried coldly. "Captain Lestrange," was the reply, "and your father." CHAPTER XII. A STRANGE STORY Sophy neither screamed nor fainted at this extraordinary announcement; indeed, it appeared to her so very ridiculous that she felt more inclined to laugh. However, she controlled her feelings, and spoke very quietly--so quietly that the visitor was somewhat disconcerted. "Why do you make this strange assertion?" she asked, looking again at his card. "Because it is true." "What proof can you give me of its truth?" "Three proofs, Sophy, if I may call----" "You may not!" interrupted the girl, flushing. "I am Miss Marlow."