The result of his cogitations was that he made a little experiment. For some time past a celebrated case of personation, in which the fortunes of an old family and estate were involved, had been the theme of conversation and speculation all the world over; and, curiously enough, the man who caused this excitement hailed from Australia. The trial had just commenced, and the newspapers were full of it. Armed with a bundle of papers, Gilbert Bidaud presented himself to Chaytor. Throwing them on the table, he said:
"Never have I been so interested, never has there been such a case before the public. How will it end? that is the question--how will it end? You and I, who are students of human nature, who can read character as we read books, even we must be puzzled and perplexed. Why, what have you there? As I live, you have been purchasing the same papers as myself."
It was true that there were English newspapers scattered about the room of the same dates as those Gilbert Bidaud had brought in with him, and that their appearance indicated that Chaytor had perused them.
"An Englishman may buy an English newspapers I suppose," said Chaytor, a little uneasily, "without its being considered in any way remarkable. What particular case are you referring to?"
"An Englishman, my dear friend," replied Gilbert, with exceeding urbanity, "may purchase every English newspaper there is for sale in the city if he is so inclined. This is the particular case to which I refer." He pointed to the columns upon columns of the reports of the case, taking up one paper after another and laying them all down carefully a-top of each other with the case in question uppermost, till he had gathered together every newspaper in the room, and had arranged them in one pile. While he was thus employed he did not fail to note that Chaytor's face had grown white, and that he was also watching Gilbert Bidaud in fear and secresy. Gilbert Bidaud laughed softly, as he said:
"Study this case, my dear friend. Watch its progress--consider it well. But perhaps it is not necessary for one so deep, so clever as yourself. You have already made up your mind how it will end. Make me as wise as yourself, friend of my soul."
He laid his hand upon Chaytor's arm, and gazed steadily into the traitor's eyes, which wavered in the observance.
"How should I know," exclaimed Chaytor, shaking off Gilbert's hand, "how it will end?"
"Nay, my dear friend," said Gilbert, and once more he laid his hand upon Chaytor's arm, "do not shake me off so rudely. You and I are friends, are we not? We can serve each other; I may be useful to you--yes, yes, very, very useful."
He was one who placed a high value upon small tests, and he had laid his hand upon Chaytor's arm the second time with a deliberate and distinct purpose. If the man before him was really and truly Basil, he could not possibly misunderstand the covert threat which the action and the tone in which he spoke conveyed. Having nothing to fear, he would show resentment, indignation, and would release himself immediately from Gilbert's grasp. Newman Chaytor did nothing of the kind; inwardly shaking with mortal dread, he allowed Gilbert's hand to remain, and for a few moments neither of the men spoke. During this brief silence Gilbert knew that the game was his, and that he had nothing to fear from Chaytor's threat concerning the management of Annette's fortune. He was too wise to push his advantage. With a light laugh, he threw the pile of newspapers into a corner of the room, and said: