A tale that distressed Mrs. Carradyne to sickness. A tale that so
abjectly terrified Captain Monk, when it was imparted to him on Tuesday
morning, as to take every atom of fierceness out of his composition.

"Not Hamlyn's wife!" he gasped. "Eliza!"

"No, not his wife," she retorted, a great deal too angry herself to be
anything but fierce and fiery. "That other woman, that false first wife
of his, was not drowned, as was set forth, and she has come to claim
him, with their son."

"His wife; their son," muttered the Captain as if he were bewildered.
"Then what are you?--what is your son? Oh, my poor Eliza."

"Yes, what are we? Papa, I will bring him to answer for it before his
country's tribunal--if there be law in the land."

No one spoke to this. It may have occurred to them to remember that Mr.
Hamlyn could not legally be punished for what he did in innocence.
Captain Monk opened the glass doors and walked on to the terrace, as if
the air of the room were oppressive. Eliza went out after him.

"Papa," she said, "there now exists all the more reason for your making
my darling _your_ heir. Let it be settled without delay. He must succeed
to Leet Hall."

Captain Monk looked at his daughter as if not understanding her. "No,
no, no," he said. "My child, you forget; trouble must be obscuring your
faculties. None but a _legal_ descendant of the Monks could be allowed
to have Leet Hall. Besides, apart from this, it is already settled. I