The next morning Michael was pronounced to be out of danger by Dr. Payne, and appended his signature to the . He still held to his indignant attitude against Beryl, and was most anxious that he should be arrested. So far as he knew, Beryl was innocent of the crime; but Durham knew better. Having the evidence of Tolomeo and possession of the fatal handkerchief, he was content to believe that Julius was guilty. Since he was one of the family, it was a grave question as to whether he should be arrested. But seeing that Bernard's character could not be cleared until the whole truth came out, and the wrongdoer suffered for his wickedness, it was agreed that a warrant should be obtained for the guilty person. This business was to Durham, and he departed for town by the mid-day train.  
"And you can ride over to the castle, Conniston," he said to that young gentleman, who accompanied him to the station, "and tell Bernard to hold himself in readiness to come to London."
 
"Will he be arrested?"
 
"I fancy so. But I can't yet be sure. At all events, Beryl will be accused and taken in charge, so Bernard will soon be set free."
 
"What about Jerry?"
 
"I will go to Scotland Yard as soon as I arrive, and see if anything has been heard of the young scamp. However, if we get Beryl, we may be able to do without Jerry."
 
"Do you intend to have Michael arrested?"
 
"Yes," said Durham, calmly, "as an accessory before the fact. I can't say if he is innocent or guilty."
 
"But, Durham, you heard him declare that he was that Beryl intended to kill Sir Simon. Michael only called to see about the check."
 
"I doubt that part of his confession," replied the lawyer, dryly. "It appears to me that Michael would have kept out of the way had he entertained the slightest idea that Sir Simon—as he did—guessed that the check was forged. Besides, I want to have a mention of Michael Gilroy's arrest put in the papers, so that his mother may be from her hiding-place."
 
"Do you think she will come?"
 
"I am certain. She alone knows what took place when Beryl entered the house and how he strangled the old man. I am convinced that to save her son she will denounce Julius, no matter what offer he has made to her about holding her tongue. Here's the train. Good-bye, Conniston, and bring Bernard up to town when I send a wire."
 
The train steamed off, and Conniston was left on the platform. "I do hope all this business will soon be at an end," he said to himself. "I am about weary of surprises."
 
Already it had been arranged that Miss Berengaria should keep an eye on Michael—who never expected to be arrested—so Conniston had no need to return to the . Mounting his horse he took his way along the high-road to the castle, and arrived there somewhere about two o'clock. As there was no one about the place he put up the horse himself, and then came to the front door. Much to his surprise it was locked, but a vigorous ringing of the bell brought Mrs. Moon to the door. That estimable lady looked worried, and her face was whiter than ever, gleaming like the moon itself from the frilling of her cap. When she saw her master, she lifted up her large hands.
 
"Goodness be praised your lordship has come," said she, with a moan and combined in a most extraordinary way. "Have you seen my wicked Victoria, your lordship?"
 
"No. Has she gone away?"
 
"Last night," said Mrs. Moon, drifting into the hall. "Bless your lordship dear, she went away before ten o'clock in her best things, saying she would be back. And not an eye have I set on her since. But then I expect the coming of Jerry upset her."
 
"Jerry!" shouted Conniston, throwing down his cap. "Did you say that Jerry was here?"
 
"Yes. He's here, your lordship, and he has sent Mr. Grant mad. As soon as Jerry set eyes on Mr. Grant last night, when he come at nine o'clock, he had his hair standing on end. Mr. Grant, he was amazed-like also, and took Jerry to his room. There he have kept him locked up, and wished to send a messenger to your dear lordship, and——"
 
Conniston waited to hear no more. He tore up the stairs two at a time, and burst red-faced and excited into Bernard's .
 
His friend had already heard his hasty footsteps, and was on his feet staring at the door. "I'm glad you've come, Conniston," he said breathlessly. "That boy Jerry is here, and I've locked him up in case he should get away and tell Beryl."
 
"Beryl has his hands full at present," said Conniston, grimly. "As to Judas, he's wanted by the police."
 
"The dickens! What for?"
 
"For trying to poison Michael Gilroy!"
 
Bernard stared. "Michael Gilroy? Where is he?"
 
"At Miss Plantagenet's. It's a long story. I'll tell it to you as soon as I can get my breath. Where's Jerry?"
 
"Shut up in an empty room," said Bernard. "He came last night at nine or thereabouts. I was outside the castle door and saw him coming. I did not know it was him until I stepped into the hall. When Jerry saw me, his hair rose on end, and he appeared to be frightened out of his life."
 
"As he well may be," muttered Conniston.
 
"I collared him, and he tried to get away. But I took him to my room and kept him there. He refused to answer my questions unless I let him go. Of course not being able to trust him, I declined, so I am quite in the dark as to what he has been doing. I then shut him up in an empty room, with a barred window, and sent Victoria in to take him some food. And then a queer thing happened, Conniston. Victoria took him in the food, and was with Jerry for about ten minutes. When she came out she went downstairs and dressed herself in her best. Then she left the castle, and has not been heard of since. I am afraid she has gone to tell Beryl where I am," concluded Bernard, gloomily. "And I may be arrested to-day. I should have looked after Victoria, but I never knew that Jerry would act so . He is a perfect for cleverness."
 
"Don't you trouble your head about being arrested," said Dick, drawing a long breath. "It's not about that Victoria has gone."
 
"But what can the boy have sent her away for?"
 
"To warn Beryl. It's a pity you didn't keep the two apart," said Conniston, much . "But as you have been so much in the dark, you can't help the mistake you made. As to arrest, you may have to give yourself up. Mark told me to inform you to hold yourself in readiness."
 
"I shall be delighted," said Gore, emphatically. "I am about tired of this hole-and-corner business. But what about Michael Gilroy?"
 
"Sit down," said Conniston, a cigarette. "I will tell you the whole story. It was not told you before, as Mark was afraid, with your impatient , you would insist on turning up and spoiling the whole business."
 
"I daresay I should have done so," admitted Bernard, . "But, tell me, what's up, old chap? I'm on ."
 
"Well, in the first place, we have discovered that Julius killed your grandfather."
 
Bernard started to his feet. "What!" he shouted, then calmed down. "I almost expected to hear you say that," he added. "How was the found out?"
 
"You may well call him a villain," rejoined Conniston; "he has tried to poison Michael."
 
"What for?"
 
"To get rid of an witness, I suppose. He employed Jerry to give him some in a cup of tea. Jerry did so, and then cleared out, Mark communicated [pg 281]with Scotland Yard about Jerry, but we never expected he would be here. It's a lucky thing you kept the young prisoner, Bernard."
 
"This is all very well," said Bernard, who looked bewildered. "But you tell me so many facts without detail that I can't understand how to connect them. Tell me the whole story."
 
"You won't interrupt if I do?"
 
"No," said Gore, impatiently, "fire ahead, Dick."
 
Conniston did so at once, and related all that had hitherto been kept from Gore's knowledge. Bernard listened in silence, save for an occasional ejaculation, which showed how difficult he found it to keep his promise not to interrupt. "And I think Mark was about right to keep these things from you, Bernard," said Conniston, when he ended. "For you are in a wax hearing them now."
 
"And who wouldn't be in a wax?" demanded Gore, furiously. "Look at the way in which I have been treated. Beryl has made me a scape-goat for his own wickedness. I have been compelled to hide my head. I have been accused of an awful crime—my reputation has been ruined. I should think I am furious, and I have a right to be."
 
"Bernard! Bernard!" said Dick, shaking his smooth head, "your troubles have taught you little. It was your furious temper that led you to fight with Sir Simon. You then said words which made it probable to outsiders that you committed this crime. And now, when all is on the eve of being cleared up, you have as bad a temper as ever."
 
"But think of that man Michael masquerading as me," went on Bernard, to speak out. "It was bad enough in London, but that he should dare to come to Alice—oh!" in an access of rage he shook his fist. Then he sat down to recover himself. "You are right, Dick," he remarked, wiping his forehead, "I'm a fool. I'll never learn wisdom. Heaven knows I have had a severe lesson. I will try and control this beastly temper of mine. But, after all, seeing that I love Alice so much, it is not to be wondered at that I should be annoyed at another man taking my place."
 
"He didn't," replied Conniston, calmly and . "Miss Malleson guessed the truth about him straight off. She has only used him as an instrument to learn what she could. Don't you fuss, Bernard. What we have to do is to question Judas, and see if he can supplement the revelations of Michael, your half-brother."
 
"Don't talk about that fellow being my half-brother."
 
"Well, he is, isn't he?"
 
"Yes, but—well, I suppose I should rather pity than blame the chap."
 
"I think so too," said Dick gravely. "Miss Berengaria says there is much good in him. She intends to assist him when she can."
 
"I shall help him also," said Bernard, after a pause. "The poor fellow can't help his birth, and I owe him something for the way in which my father behaved to his mother."
 
"This is a change of temper," laughed Conniston.
 
"Oh, I soon get into a rage and soon get over it," rejoined Gore, impatiently. "But we must examine this boy, Dick. He won't answer me though. I have been asking him plenty of questions."
 
"He'll answer me," said Conniston, rising. "I know about the poisoning. He won't face that."
 
"But did he really——"
 
"Yes, he did. I told you he was an imp of darkness, though, to be sure, I never expected he'd begin to murder people at his tender age. Come along, Bernard, show me the captive."
 
Gore led the way from the room and along a narrow passage. At the end of this was a door, which he opened. It led into a large empty roo............