"Lucius, you are mad. Let me beseech you, as a gentleman, in the painful interview that must take place, to spare your father's widow as much as possible. Deal gently with her, boy; it is she who has been the victim in the whole matter."
"Don't bandy words with me, Lord Spunyarn," cried the young man, and for the moment the impetuous Reginald Haggard of bygone years seemed to stand before the astonished nobleman in the very flesh. "You tell me," he continued in a calmer tone, "that George Haggard is the heir, that I am but my father's base-born child. Show me the proofs of this and I'll believe it; till then, Lord Spunyarn, I simply say you lie," and the young man bowed defiantly. "Let us go," he continued, "to the clever woman who has hoodwinked me for a lifetime. I follow you, sir."
Lord Spunyarn made no reply, but led the way to the widow's boudoir.
As they entered, Mrs. Haggard rose and opened her arms to Lucius, but she sunk again into her chair, staring with sad astonishment at the extraordinary transformation that had been suddenly effected in the young man. His dead father, in an access of furious passion, seemed to stand before her. No answering look of affection was upon his face; the young mouth was firmly set, and the eyes glittered with savage defiance.
"Lucius," she said with an effort, "dear Lucius."
"Madam," he replied, as, uninvited, he seated himself with an attempt at dignity, "his lordship has inflicted upon me a strange and improbable story. I have told him, and I do honestly believe it, that that wild story is a lie, a wicked lie. He tells me that you hold the proofs. Let me then see these proofs, that I may make him my humble apologies, and go out from your presence into the world a nameless beggar. But you will please remember that you will find it difficult to deceive me, and to deceive Lord Pit Town, for you must cheat us both."
"Lucius," said Mrs. Haggard in a broken voice.
But Lord Spunyarn interrupted her. "I had hoped, dear lady," he said, "to have spared you such a scene as this; let me deal with him, Mrs. Haggard. The proofs, Lucius," he added, "are here. I myself can supply the few missing links in the chain of evidence. It is but natural, perhaps," he said, "and you have, as you say, a right to see these sad proofs, unhappy boy, of the miserable folly and wickedness of your real parents. Look at them, then; examine them for yourself, and then you cannot fail to be convinced that I have not lied to you after all."
He turned the key in the lock and softly opened the box; then the astonished man gave a sudden start and placed his hand to his forehead.
Young Lucius Haggard rose to his feet, and laughed a loud, indignant, mocking laugh.