"WELL?" whispered Blanche, taking her uncle confidentially by thearm.

"Well," said Sir Patrick, with a spark of his satirical humorflashing out at his niece, "I am going to do a very rash thing. Iam going to place a serious trust in the hands of a girl ofeighteen."

"The girl's hands will keep it, uncle--though she _is_ onlyeighteen."

"I must run the risk, my dear; your intimate knowledge of MissSilvester may be of the greatest assistance to me in the nextstep I take. You shall know all that I can tell you, but I mustwarn you first. I can only admit you into my confidence bystartling you with a great surprise. Do you follow me, so far?"

"Yes! yes!"

"If you fail to control yourself, you place an obstacle in theway of my being of some future use to Miss Silvester. Rememberthat, and now prepare for the surprise. What did I tell youbefore dinner?"

"You said you had made discoveries at Craig Fernie. What have youfound out?"

"I have found out that there is a certain person who is in fullpossession of the information which Miss Silvester has concealedfrom you and from me. The person is within our reach. The personis in this neighborhood. The person is in this room!"

He caught up Blanche's hand, resting on his arm, and pressed itsignificantly. She looked at him with the cry of surprisesuspended on her lips--waited a little with her eyes fixed on FirPatrick's face--struggled resolutely, and composed herself.

"Point the person out." She said the words with a self-possessionwhich won her uncle's hearty approval. Blanche had done wondersfor a girl in her teens.

"Look!" said Sir Patrick; "and tell me what you see."

"I see Lady Lundie, at the other end of the room, with the map ofPerthshire and the Baronial Antiquities of Scotland on the table.And I see every body but you and me obliged to listen to her."

"Every body?"

Blanche looked carefully round the room, and noticed Geoffrey inthe opposite corner; fast asleep by this time in his arm-chair.

"Uncle! you don't mean--?"

"There is the man."

"Mr. Delamayn--!"

"Mr. Delamayn knows every thing."

Blanche held mechanically by her uncle's arm, and looked at thesleeping man as if her eyes could never see enough of him.

"You saw me in the library in private consultation with Mr.Delamayn," resumed Sir Patrick. "I have to acknowledge, my dear,that you were quite right in thinking this a suspiciouscircumstance, And I am now to justify myself for having purposelykept you in the dark up to the present time."

With those introductory words, he briefly reverted to the earlieroccurrences of the day, and then added, by way of commentary, astatement of the conclusions which events had suggested to hisown mind.

The events, it may be remembered, were three in number. First,Geoffrey's private conference with Sir Patrick on the subject ofIrregular Marriages in Scotla nd. Secondly, Anne Silvester'sappearance at Windygates. Thirdly, Anne's flight.

The conclusions which had thereupon suggested themselves to SirPatrick's mind were six in number.

First, that a connection of some sort might possibly existbetween Geoffrey's acknowledged difficulty about his friend, andMiss Silvester's presumed difficulty about herself. Secondly,that Geoffrey had really put to Sir Patrick--not his owncase--but the case of a friend. Thirdly, that Geoffrey had someinterest (of no harmless kind) in establishing the fact of hisfriend's marriage. Fourthly, that Anne's anxiety (as described byBlanche) to hear the names of the gentlemen who were staying atWindygates, pointed, in all probability, to Geoffrey. Fifthly,that this last inference disturbed the second conclusion, andreopened the doubt whether Geoffrey had not been stating his owncase, after all, under pretense of stating the case of a friend.Sixthly, that the one way of obtaining any enlightenment on thispoint, and on all the other points involved in mystery, was to goto Craig Fernie, and consult Mrs. Inchbare's experience duringthe period of Anne's residence at the inn. Sir Patrick's apologyfor keeping all this a secret from his niece followed. He hadshrunk from agitating her on the subject until he could be sureof proving his conclusions to be true. The proof had beenobtained; and he was now, therefore, ready to open his mind toBlanche without reserve.

"So much, my dear," proceeded Sir Patrick, "for those necessaryexplanations which are also the necessary nuisances of humanintercourse. You now know as much as I did when I arrived atCraig Fernie--and you are, therefore, in a position to appreciatethe value of my discoveries at the inn. Do you understand everything, so far?"

"Perfectly!"

"Very good. I drove up to the inn; and--behold me closeted withMrs. Inchbare in her own private parlor! (My reputation may ormay not suffer, but Mrs. Inchbare's bones are above suspicion!)It was a long business, Blanche. A more sour-tempered, cunning,and distrustful witness I never examined in all my experience atthe Bar. She would have upset the temper of any mortal man but alawyer. We have such wonderful tempers in our profession; and wecan be so aggravating when we like! In short, my dear, Mrs.Inchbare was a she-cat, and I was a he-cat--and I clawed thetruth out of her at last. The result was well worth arriving at,as you shall see. Mr. Delamayn had described to me certainremarkable circumstances as taking place between a lady and agentleman at an inn: the object of the parties being to passthemselves off at the time as man and wife. Every one of thosecircumstances, Blanche, occurred at Craig Fernie, between a ladyand a gentleman, on the day when Miss Silvester disappeared fromthis house And--wait!--being pressed for her name, after thegentleman had left her behind him at the inn, the name the ladygave was, 'Mrs. Silvester.' What do you think of that?"

"Think! I'm bewildered--I can't realize it."

"It's a startling discovery, my dear child--there is no denyingthat. Shall I wait a little, and let you recover yourself?"

"No! no! Go on! The gentleman, uncle? The gentleman who was withAnne? Who is he? Not Mr. Delamayn?"

"Not Mr. Delamayn," said Sir Patrick. "If I have proved nothingelse, I have proved that."

"What need was there to prove it? Mr. Delamayn went to London onthe day of the lawn-party. And Arnold--"

"And Arnold went with him as far as the second station from this.Quite true! But how was I to know what Mr. Delamayn might havedone after Arnold had left him? I could only make sure that hehad not gone back privately to the inn, by getting the proof fromMrs. Inchbare."

"How did you get it?"

"I asked her to describe the gentleman who was with MissSilvester. Mrs. Inchbare's description (vague as you willpresently find it to be) completely exonerates that man," saidSir Patrick, pointing to Geoffrey still asleep in his chair."_He_ is not the person who passed Miss Silvester off as his wifeat Craig Fernie. He spoke the truth when he described the case tome as the case of a friend."

"But who is the friend?" persisted Blanche. "That's what I wantto know."

"That's what I want to know, too."

"Tell me exactly, uncle, what Mrs. Inchbare said. I have livedwith Anne all my life. I _must_ have seen the man somewhere."

"If you can identify him by Mrs. Inchbare's description,"returned Sir Patrick, "you will be a great deal cleverer than Iam. Here is the picture of the man, as painted by the landlady:Young; middle-sized; dark hair, eyes, and complexion; nicetemper, pleasant way of speaking. Leave out 'young,' and the restis the exact contrary of Mr. Delamayn. So far, Mrs. Inchbareguides us plainly enough. But how are we to apply her descriptionto the right person? There must be, at the lowest computation,five hundred thousand men in England who are young, middle-sized,dark, nice-tempered, and pleasant spoken. One of the footmen hereanswers that description in every particular."

"And Arnold answers it," said Blanche--as a still strongerinstance of the provoking vagueness of the description.

"And Arnold answers it," repeated Sir Patrick, quite agreeingwith her.

They had barely said those words when Arnold himself appeared,approaching Sir Patrick with a pack of cards in his hand.

There--at the very moment when they had both guessed the truth,without feeling the slightest suspicion of it in their ownminds--there stood Discovery, presenting itself unconsciously toeyes incapable of seeing it, in the person of the man who hadpassed Anne Silvester off as his wife at the Craig Fernie inn!The terrible caprice of Chance, the merciless irony ofCircumstance, could go no further than this. The three had theirfeet on the brink of the precipice at that moment. And two ofthem were smiling at an odd coincidence; and one of them wasshuffling a pack of cards!

"We have done with the Antiquities at last!" said Arnold; "and weare going to play at Whist. Sir Patrick, will you choose a card?"

"Too soon after dinner, my good fellow, for _me_. Play the firstrubber, and then give me another chance. By-the-way," he added"Miss Silvester has been traced to Kirkandrew. How is it that younever saw her go by?"

"She can't have gone my way, Sir Patrick, or I must have seenher."

Having justified himself in those terms, he was recalled to theother end of the room by the whist-party, impatient for the cardswhich he had in his hand.

"What were we talking of when he interrupted us?" said SirPatrick to Blanche.

"Of the man, uncle, who was with Miss Silvester at the inn."

"It's useless to pursue that inquiry, my dear, with nothingbetter than Mrs. Inchbare's description to help us."

Blanche looked round at the sleeping Geoffrey.

"And _he_ knows!" she said. "It's maddening, uncle, to look atthe brute snoring in his chair!"

Sir Patrick held up a warning hand. Before a word more could besaid between them they were silenced again by anotherinterruption,

The whist-party comprised Lady Lundie and the surgeon, playing aspartners against Smith and Jones. Arnold sat behind the surgeon,taking a lesson in the game. One, Two, and Three, thus left totheir own devices, naturally thought of the billiard-table; and,detecting Geoffrey asleep in his corner, advanced to disturb hisslumbers, under the all-sufficing apology of "Pool." Geoffreyroused himself, and rubbed his eyes, and said, drowsily, "Allright." As he rose, he looked at the opposite corner in which SirPatrick and his niece were sitting. Blanche's self-possession,resolutely as she struggled to preserve it, was not strong enoughto keep her eyes from turning toward Geoffrey with an expressionwhich betrayed the reluctant interest that she now felt in him.He stopped, noticing something entirely new in the look withwhich the young lady was regarding him.

"Beg your pardon," said Geoffrey. "Do you wish to speak to me?"

Blanche's face flushed all over. Her uncle came to the rescue.

"Miss Lundie and I hope you have slept well Mr. Delamayn," saidSir Patrick, jocosely."That's all."

"Oh? That's all?" said Geoffrey still looking at Blanche. "Begyour pardon again. Deuced long walk, and deuced heavy dinner.Natural consequence--a nap."

Sir Patrick eyed him closely. It was plain that he had beenhonestly puzzled at finding himself an object of specialattention on Blanche's part. "See you in the billiard-room?" hesaid, carelessly, and followed his companions out of the room--asusual, without waiting for an answer.

"Mind what you are about," said Sir Patrick to his niece. "Thatman is quicker than he looks. We commit a serious mistake if weput him on his guard at starting."

"It sha'n't happen again, uncle," said Blanche. "But think of_his_ being in Anne's confidence, and of _my_ being shut out ofit!"

"In his friend's confidence, you mean, my dear; and (if we onlyavoid awakening his suspicion) there is no knowing how soon hemay say or do something which may show us who his friend is."

"But he is going back to his brother's to-morrow--he said so atdinner-time."

"So much the better. He will be out of the way of seeing strangethings in a certain young lady's face. His brother's house iswithin easy reach of this; and I am his legal adviser. Myexperience tells me that he has not done consulting me yet--andthat he will let out something more next time. So much for ourchance of seeing the light through Mr. Delamayn--if we can't seeit in any other way. And that is not our only chance, remember. Ihave something to tell you about Bishopriggs and the lostletter."

"Is it found?"

"No. I satisfied myself about that--I had it searched for, undermy own eye. The letter is stolen, Blanche; and Bishopriggs hasgot it. I have left a line for him, in Mrs. Inchbare's care. Theold rascal is missed already by the visitors at the inn, just asI told you he would be. His mistress is feeling the penalty ofhaving been fool enough to vent her ill temper on herhead-waiter. She lays the whole blame of the quarrel on MissSilvester, of course. Bishopriggs neglected every body at the innto wait on Miss Silvester. Bishopriggs was insolent on beingremonstrated with, and Miss Silvester encouraged him--and so on.The result will be--now Miss Silvester has gone--that Bishopriggswill return to Craig Fernie before the autumn is over. We aresailing with wind and tide, my dear. Come, and learn to playwhist."

He rose to join the card-players. Blanche detained him.

"You haven't told me one thing yet," she said. "Whoever the manmay be, is Anne married to him?"

"Whoever the man may be," returned Sir Patrick, "he had betternot attempt to marry any body else."

So the niece unconsciously put the question, and so the uncleunconsciously gave the answer on which depended the wholehappiness of Blanche's life to come, The "man!" How lightly theyboth talked of the "man!" Would nothing happen to rouse thefaintest suspicion--in their minds or in Arnold's mind--thatArnold was the "man" himself?

"You mean that she _is_ married?" said Blanche.

"I don't go as far as that."

"You mean that she is _not_ married?"

"I don't go so far as _that._"

"Oh! the law! "

"Provoking, isn't it, my dear? I can tell you, professionally,that (in my opinion) she has grounds to go on if she claims to bethe man's wife. That is what I meant by my answer; and, until weknow more, that is all I can say."

"When shall we know more? When shall we get the telegram?"

"Not for some hours yet. Come, and learn to play whist."

"I think I would rather talk to Arnold, uncle, if you don'tmind."

"By all means! But don't talk to him about what I have beentelling you to-night. He and Mr. Delamayn are old associates,remember; and he might blunder into telling his friend what hisfriend had better not know. Sad (isn't it?) for me to beinstilling these lessons of duplicity into the youthful mind. Awise person once said, 'The older a man gets the worse he gets.'That wise person, my dear, had me in his eye, and was perfectlyright."

He mitigated the pain of that confession with a pinch of snuff,and went to the whist table to wait until the end of the rubbergave him a place at the game.