"Yes," said Mrs. Bezel, seizing her opportunity to lead up to the revelation. "I know him as the best and kindest of men. I know him as one who has been a good friend to you—orphan as you thought yourself."
"Orphan as I thought myself," muttered Claude, turning pale. "Is it not true—am I not an orphan?"
"No!"
"Great Heavens! What is this you tell me? My father——"
"Your father is dead. He was murdered, as you know."
"Then my mother?"
Mrs. Bezel looked at the agonized face of the young man, and covered her own, with a quick indrawn breath.
"She lives!"
"My mother! She lives! Are you mad? She died in London shortly after her acquittal."
"So it was supposed, but it was not true. Could you expect that unhappy woman to face the scorn and contempt of the world after having been accused of her husband's murder? She did not die, save to the world. She fled from society and sought refuge here—here where she lies a helpless invalid."