It was all over. Just as the criminal in the dock, when he sees the judge placing the black cap on his head, knows that his doom is sealed, Stephen knew that all was lost. But the will was not all subdued yet.
There was Davenant blood in his veins. White to the very lips, he stood and glared at them, one hand grasping the table, the other thrust in his breast. Then an evil smile curled the cunning mouth.
“Cleverly planned,” he said, speaking as if every word cost him a pang. “You have beaten me, thus far. Gideon Rolfe, I congratulate you upon the success of your maneuvers; in another hour your daughter would have been the mistress of Hurst; she will, now, I presume, be the wife of a beggar.”
Gideon Rolfe looked at him with stern, immovable eyes.
Stephen smiled and took up his hat.
“You have robbed me of my bride,” he said; “permit me to return to the home which still remains to me.”
There was an intense silence. Then a slight stir as Jack, carrying Una in his arms, left the room, followed by Mrs. Davenant. With haggard eyes Stephen watched them, then, with a convulsive movement, he took up his hat.
“You will find me at the Hurst,” he said; “I will go there. If there is any law in the land which can punish you, I will have it, though it cost me a fortune. Yes, I will go home.”
Still they were silent. Whether from pity, or awe at the sight of his misery, they were silent. He looked round and, as if he had called, Slummers glided to his side. They had already reached the door, when a voice said:
“Tell him.”