“Dr. Lynch, do I understand you to raise an objection to the legality of the marriage?” asked Mr. Lester, now quite startled out of his propriety by the unexpected event. “I do raise an objection,” replied the doctor, who was already revelling in the misery he intended to produce. “What objection?” “The marriage was not legal,” he replied, triumphantly, as he glanced at Eugene. “The ceremony was performed by the reverend gentleman now present; the marriage is duly recorded, and there are plenty of witnesses of the fact.” “I appeal to your legal adviser, at your side, to say whether or not these are sufficient to constitute a legal marriage!” said Dr. Lynch, apparently bent upon prolonging the joy of his triumph, and upon keeping the parties in suspense as long as he could. “If the parties are competent to marry, they are sufficient,” said the lawyer. “But the parties to this marriage were not competent.” “What do you mean, you villain!” roared Dick Birch, unable any longer to repress his rage. “Soft words, if you please, Mr. Birch,” replied Dr. Lynch, with affected politeness. “I purpose to prove all I allege.” “What do you allege, Dr. Lynch?” interposed the lawyer. “I allege that the lady was not competent to marry. She was the wife of another man.” “Her husband was dead.” “I beg your pardon. He was living.” “Why don’t you prove it?” demanded Dick Birch. “I will.” Dr. Lynch went out of the room, opened the front door, and presently appeared with the stranger whom he had met at his office. “Here is my proof,” said he, pointing to the stranger. It was Eliot Buckstone! CHAPTER XXXV. THE LAST OF THE THREE MILLIONS. Mary did not faint, but all the springs of life within her seemed to be suddenly dried up, and she clung to the arm of her husband as though she feared he would be torn from her. The reappearance of Eliot Buckstone meant only one thing to her--that, whereas she had been the wife of Eugene Hungerford for five happy years, she was now no longer his wife. Those two children were Eugene’s by the law of nature, but not by the law of the land. What was his was not theirs by the cold formula of the world’s way. Those who had known Eliot Buckstone were startled by his appearance among them. Had the dead risen? Had the grave given up its headless trunk, which, reunited with the temple of the mind, now stood before them to confuse and confound the living, and wrench asunder the loving hearts interlocked with each other? Dr. Lynch stood with folded arms gazing upon his victims. His hour of triumph, so long waited for, had come. Banished for years from that mansion, he came now, like an avenging demon, with woe and desolation in his train. He was satisfied. “Mr. Lester, you will perceive that I have established the truth of my statement,” said he, when the party had in some measure recovered from their astonishment.