DOUGLAS caught Eleanor as she fell and carried her to the lounge.  
“Get some water and wine, Lane,” he directed, and the young officer sped out of the room, to return quickly with Nicodemus bearing the necessary articles. Douglas forced some of the between Eleanor’s teeth, and bathed her temples and hands with the iced water, and, to his infinite relief, he had the satisfaction of seeing her open her eyes.
 
“Father,” she murmured, “Father!”
 
“I am here.” The tall, sad-faced man stooped over her, and she placed her trembling hand against his cheek. “Don’t look so wild, my darling,”—as recollection returned to her. “Think no more of it,” and he laid his hand softly over her eyes. She smiled like a tired child, and, reaching over, laid her hand in Douglas’, then, , lay still. Seen together, the between father and daughter was obvious. Eleanor had inherited his handsome deep blue eyes, long eyelashes, and brilliant coloring.
 
Brett rose from beside the still figure. “He’s dead—this time,” he said . “Apoplexy. It beats me how he got out of that burning .”
 
“He wasn’t in it,” said Barry Thornton calmly.
 
“He wasn’t?” Brett’s excitement overcame him. “Why, I saw him with my own eyes.”
 
“You saw him leave here, yes; but you probably did not notice that the Japanese was at his feet in the car. When the machine turned into Wisconsin Avenue, out of your sight, my brother slowed down and sprang out, giving his hat to the Japanese, who took his place at the wheel and raced the machine up Wisconsin Avenue.”
 
“Well, I’ll be damned!” ejaculated Brett. “So it was poor Fugi who was burned up. But, good Lord! when Colonel Thornton had made so successful a getaway what induced him to put his head in the lion’s mouth by returning here, and what was he doing in this room?”
 
“If you search his pockets you may find out,” was the reply as Barry Thornton drew up a chair by Eleanor’s couch and seated himself.
 
Brett thrust his hand first in one pocket of the dead man’s clothing and then in another. In the last one he jerked it out again as if his fingers had been bitten. In his hand the priceless necklace and a wallet filled with bank notes! Brett sat down on the floor, for once speechless.
 
“How did you know it?” he asked finally.
 
Barry Thornton raised his disengaged hand and to the portrait of his ancestor and namesake. “I was watching this scene through those peepholes,”—an escaped Douglas,—“you almost caught me this morning, Mr. Hunter. This old house is honeycombed with secret passages. My brother kept a large sum of money in a secret drawer in that desk. He probably needed funds to assist him in escaping from this country, so came back here and entered the house by means of one of the secret passages. He has been behind that sliding panel,”—pointing to an in the wall near the chimney,—“waiting to slip into this room. He seized the opportunity when Nicodemus put out the lights, and left by the billiard room door, to steal the necklace as well as get his money. Your reëntering the room him, and he was making in haste for the secret passage when I stepped out of it and faced him. Thinking me dead years ago—his escape barred—the shock proved too much....” Thornton did not complete his sentence. There was a moment’s silence.
 
“I think it would be as well, Mr. Thornton, that we remove your brother’s body to his room,” suggested Douglas, recovering somewhat from his .
 
“Well, I don’t know about that; the coroner——” objected Brett .
 
“We can all testify to the details of Colonel Thornton’s death,” put in Lane. “But we cannot leave him lying here on his own floor. His death was natural, brought on by shock.”
 
“Very well, sir.” Brett rose and walked to the door. He returned in a moment with a plain-clothes policeman, and, with the assistance of Douglas and Lane, all that was mortal of Dana Thornton was carried to his room. Barry Thornton had requested them to return, and Douglas, Lane, and Brett trooped back to the library.
 
“Eleanor has told me of her long search,” began Thornton. “My came from of memory, and the latter was brought on by a fall on shipboard. That fall,”—deliberately,—“was caused by my brother, Dana.”
 
“Oh, Father!” Eleanor sat bolt upright.
 
“Yes, I had found out some of his deviltries and taxed him with them. I told him I would expose him if he did not mend his ways, and he promised to do so. He visited me on board ship, and while he was there I had occasion to mount the rigging. He followed me up, and managed to push me as I was swinging from one of the ropes. I lost my balance and fell, with what result you already know.”
 
“The fiend!” cried Eleanor, bitterly. “And I trusted him so.”
 
“His ability to inspire confidence has been his greatest asset,” said her father dryly. “After leaving the gig that day at Old Point Comfort, everything is a blank to me.”
 
“What brought back your memory?” asked Douglas.
 
“A chance remark overheard in a drinking hell of , Panama. Two days before that a man whose face was dimly familiar met me in the streets of Cristobal and gave me his card, telling me I must ask for him at the Navy Department at Washington, and that the Secretary was keeping a place open for me. At the time, while his words impressed me deeply, they conveyed no very clear idea, nor did Senator Carew’s name enlighten me; but they caused me to renew my efforts to remember the past, which I felt convinced was very different from my surroundings then.
 
“As I have said, two days after I overheard two men plotting against the United States. Toward the end of their conversation the younger man, whom I took to be an American, mentioned the name which woke the sleeping chords of memory—the name of my dearly loved wife, Nora Fitzgerald,”—his voice broke with a . Eleanor raised his hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly. Her father’s grasp ............