"Don't you know me, Alan?" he asked.
"Richard Marlow!" gasped Alan.
"Herbert Beauchamp," was the quiet reply.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
THE STORY OF THE PAST
"Come, Alan," said Beauchamp after a pause, "you need not be tongue-tied with astonishment. I sent Blair on to tell you all that had happened, so you must have known that I was alive."
"Yes, yes--but your disguise," stammered the young man. "I expected to see Brown. You are not Brown, never could have been; for when he was here, I have seen you and him at the same time."
"That's all right, my boy. I was not Brown, as you say, and who Brown was I know no more than you do. But I am Brown now," with emphasis, "and Brown I shall remain until I can show myself with safety as Richard Marlow. Not that I intended to stick to that name. No; if Blair is right, and that scoundrel Warrender has left papers to prove my innocence, I shall take my own name. But this disguise! It is a plot between me and Blair. It was necessary that I should be on the spot, so we thought this was as good a mask as any. Oh, depend upon it, Alan, I am perfectly safe here from Jean Lestrange!"
As he spoke, Beauchamp was putting on his wig and beard. And when this was done to his satisfaction, he seated himself on a chair opposite to Alan, looking the very image of the Quiet Gentleman. Thorold did not wonder that Mrs. Marry had been deceived--the completeness of the disguise would have deceived a cleverer woman.
"Still," said he doubtfully, "if the real Brown should reappear----"