"Oh, Alan!" cried Sophy, "I am so glad you have come! I was waiting for you." "And I also," remarked Lestrange. "Who is this gentleman, Sophy?" demanded Alan. "He calls himself Captain Lestrange. Here is his card." "Captain in the army of the Peruvian Republic," said the man, "and this young lady's father!" "Confound you!--what--what----!" "Oh yes, Alan. He says he is my father--that my true father stole me from him. Here is the certificate of my birth, he says." "And here"--Lestrange pointed to Sophy--"here is my second self. Can you deny the resemblance? By the way, who are you?" The inquiry was made with graceful insolence, and was meant to provoke the young man into losing his temper. But in this it failed. "I am Alan Thorold," he said quietly, "the Squire of Heathton, and I am engaged to marry Miss Marlow----" "Pardon--Mademoiselle Lestrange," interpolated the Captain, and resumed his seat. "I claim this young lady as my daughter." "Good," said Thorold coldly. "Your proofs?" "The resemblance between us, the certificate of her birth, and the story of how I lost my dear Marie twenty years ago." "The resemblance I admit, but that goes for nothing. As to the certificate, it is that of Marie Lestrange, and not of Sophy Marlow." "Is not the birthday of Miss Marlow, as you will call her, on the 24th of June----" "Yes," said Sophy, before Alan could stop her. "The day and the year are both correct. I am twenty-one, and I was born on the 24th of June, 18--." "Very good; and at Kingston?" "At Kingston," admitted the girl; "but, for all that, I am not your daughter." "I agree with Miss Marlow," said Mr. Thorold. "Let us hear your story. That it will convince me I do not promise." "Ah!" cried the foreigner, with an ironical smile. "None so blind as those who won't see. What a pity that Marlow and Warrender are both dead!" "Oh, you know that?" "As I had the honor of telling Miss Marlow"--Lestrange put so sneering an accent on the name that Alan felt inclined to kick him--"I know that. I landed in England from Jamaica only two days ago. But, as you know, every one is talking of the mystery, and by this time I know the case as well as you do." Alan winced, and Sophy glanced at him apprehensively. Would her champion fail her? Would this man prove his claim? She was in deadly terror lest he should. But Alan had no intention of yielding. "Go on," he said again. "Miss Marlow and I will hear your story." "Very good. I am glad to see that you have the British instinct of fair play. I will be as brief as possible, and you can ask me any questions you wish. My name is Achille Lestrange, the man who is mentioned in that certificate. I am--or, rather, I was--a Captain in the Peruvian Army. I retired after the war between that country and Chili. However, I have ample means to live on, and I retain my military rank, out of sheer vanity, if you will." "All this," said Alan, "is beside the point."