"Don't talk to me about natural affection!" cried the girl. "I know nothing about you. Nothing in the world will make me go with you!" "But if I tell my story to the world?" cried Lestrange, hinting a threat. "Tell it, by all means," said Thorold, putting his arm round Sophy. "You can hurt only the memory of the dead. Even if Marlow, as you assert, killed your cousin, he is dead, and beyond your reach." "Are you so sure he is dead?" sneered the man. "Of course we are sure," cried Sophy indignantly. "Didn't I see him dead in his coffin?" "Well," said Lestrange, preparing to go, "it is most extraordinary to me that he should have died so suddenly and so conveniently. His body, too, has been stolen. That also is convenient." "Do you mean that he is alive?" "Yes. He feigned death to escape me." "How could he have known that you were coming?" "I don't know," was the answer, "but I shall find out. It shall be my business to search for the body of Richard Marlow." "Do," said Thorold calmly. "And when you find it you will gain the reward of a thousand pounds." "I shall gain more than that, Mr. Thorold. My daughter----" "Never! Never! Leave this house, sir, and don't come near me again!" The man moved towards the door. He had picked up the certificate and put it in his pocket. "You turn your own father out into the street," he said. "Very good. I shall take my own means of punishing you for your want of filial respect. It is to the bad influence of Mr. Thorold that I owe this reception. Be assured, Mr. Thorold, that I shall not forget it. To revert to the tongue of my progenitors, I shall say _Au revoir_ but not 'Adieu.' We shall meet again." And clapping on his hat with a jaunty air, Captain Lestrange walked out of the room. When the door had closed after him, Sophy turned to Alan. "Do you think this story is true?" she asked. "I must admit that there appears to be some truth in it," was the reply. "The certificate is correct as to your age, your birthday, and your birthplace, and the name of your mother also is correct." "Then, am I that man's daughter?" "Not necessarily. He may have assumed the name. He may--oh, I don't know what to think! But even if he proves his case, you won't go with him?" "Never! never! How can we find out the truth?" "Joe might know. I wish he would come back. I wonder if, after all, your father can be alive--Marlow, I mean." "How can that be? We both saw him dead. Dr. Warrender gave a certificate of the death. Why do you ask?" "Well, it is strange. In his will a sum of two thousand a year is left to be paid to a man called Herbert Beauchamp, through the Occidental Bank." "And he says that my father was Herbert Beauchamp." "I know. Can your father have feigned death to avoid him?" "Impossible. He did not know Captain Lestrange was coming."