The Duke of Hereward went in, and requested the young clergyman to favor him with a sight of the parish register.
The curate complied by inviting the two visitors to walk into the vestry.
He then placed two chairs at the green table, requested them to be seated, and laid before them the brass-bound volume recording the births, marriages and deaths of this populous, old parish.
The Duke of Hereward turned over the ponderous leaves until he came to the page he sought.
And there he found, duly registered, signed and witnessed, the marriage, by special license, of Archibald-Alexander-John Scott and Rose Cameron, both of Lone, Scotland.
"The mystery deepens," said the duke as he pointed to the register.
"It is incomprehensible," answered the detective.
"That is my name," added the duke.
"Some imposter must have assumed it," suggested the officer.
"Then the imposter, in taking my name, must have also taken my face and form, voice and manner, for though, upon my soul, I never married Rose Cameron, there are two honest women who are ready to swear that I did!" whispered the duke, with a humorous twinkle in his eyes; for there were moments when the absurdity of the situation overcame its gravity.