"That's all right, my boy. I was not Brown, as you say, and who Brown was I know no more than you do. But I am Brown now," with emphasis, "and Brown I shall remain until I can show myself with safety as Richard Marlow. Not that I intended to stick to that name. No; if Blair is right, and that scoundrel Warrender has left papers to prove my innocence, I shall take my own name. But this disguise! It is a plot between me and Blair. It was necessary that I should be on the spot, so we thought this was as good a mask as any. Oh, depend upon it, Alan, I am perfectly safe here from Jean Lestrange!" As he spoke, Beauchamp was putting on his wig and beard. And when this was done to his satisfaction, he seated himself on a chair opposite to Alan, looking the very image of the Quiet Gentleman. Thorold did not wonder that Mrs. Marry had been deceived--the completeness of the disguise would have deceived a cleverer woman. "Still," said he doubtfully, "if the real Brown should reappear----" "We will have him arrested for the murder of Warrender," said Beauchamp quietly. "Yes, I am convinced he is guilty, else why did he steal the key of the vault? Blair told me about that. He must surely be some tool of Jean Lestrange's. No, not the man himself--I am aware of that. Blair saw the passenger-list." "Are you certain that the Quiet Gentleman killed Warrender?" "No, because I did not see the blow struck. I was insensible at the time--but it is a long story, and to make things perfectly clear, I must begin at the beginning. One moment, Alan." Beauchamp crossed to the door and turned the key. "I don't want Mrs. Marry to come in." "She will hear your voice, and believing you to be dumb----" "I'll speak low. Come nearer to this chair. First tell me how Sophy is." "Very well, but much cast down. She thinks you are dead, and that your body has been stolen. Oh, Beauchamp!" cried Alan passionately, "why did you not trust Sophy and me? You would have spared us both many an unhappy hour." "I wish now that I had told you, but I acted for the best. I had little time for thought. I expected daily that Lestrange would appear. If I had only considered the matter rather more--but there, it's done and we must make the best of it. Sophy's tears will be turned to smiles shortly--if, indeed, she still loves me, knowing that I am not her father," and the old man sighed. "You need have no fear on that score," said Alan, with a faint smile. He was getting over the first shock of surprise. "Sophy would have nothing to do with Jean Lestrange, although she half believed his story. She always insists that you are her true father. She will welcome you back with the greatest joy." "She must welcome me secretly." "Secretly--why? Should your innocence be established, you would surely reappear as Richard Marlow?"