"I am your father!"
CHAPTER XXXVII.
A VOICE FROM THE GRAVE.
It was close on two o'clock, and, weary of waiting for Claude, the master of the Manor House had seated himself at the luncheon table. He was curious to know what had taken place between his friend and Mr. Paynton, as he judged from the length of time the interview had lasted that some important communication must have been made. Had Claude discovered the identity of Paynton with Jeringham? If so, had Jeringham confessed to the crime? These questions so annoyed and perplexed Tait that he could not swallow a mouthful of food. Throwing aside his napkin he rose from the table to see if Larcher had returned.
As he pushed back his chair the door opened and Claude, with a roll of papers in his hand, made his appearance. Tait turned to greet him with a smile, but it disappeared from his face and the words died on his lips when he saw the white and haggard countenance of his friend.
"Good Heavens, man!" he cried, hastening toward him; "what is the matter? Here, sit down! Drink this glass of wine!"
Claude did as he was bidden; then waved his hand in the direction of Dormer, who, stolid as ever, stood waiting orders.
"You can go, Dormer," said Tait hastily. Then, when the man leaving the room closed the door after him, and they found themselves alone, he continued: "Is anything wrong, Claude? Did Paynton tell——"