But the men were at his side—resistance was useless—the door at the foot of the stairs had been barred, and there was no way of escape.
"The police will be here directly—keep him till they come!" cried the General at the top of his voice. "I shall give him in charge! He is the murderer Westwood, the man who killed my bother, Sydney Vane, and afterwards escaped from Portland Prison, where he was undergoing a life sentence! I remember the man perfectly. Sabina Meldreth, you can identify him?"
"Oh, yes, I can identify him!" said Sabina curtly. "He's Miss West's father, anyway—and we all know who that was. We heard her call him 'father' just now her very self."
The servants tightened their grasp on the man's arm. But at that moment an interruption occurred. The drawing-room door was flung open, and Hubert Lepel, ghastly pale, and staggering a little as he moved, appeared upon the scene.
"This must go no further," he said. "Keep the police away, and let this man go. He is not Sydney Vane's murderer."
"Don't interfere, sir!" shouted the General from the stairs. "This is Westwood, the man who escaped from Portland—and back to Portland he shall go!"
"It is Westwood, I know," said Herbert, supporting himself against the door-post, and looking down calmly upon the excited group below; "but Westwood was not a murderer. General, you have been mistaken all this time. I wish to make a statement of the truth—it was I who killed Sydney Vane! Now do what you like!"