"Margaret Bezel!" murmured Hilliston, wondering what was coming.
"Not Margaret Bezel, but Julia Larcher, my mother."
"She—she told you that?" gasped Hilliston, his self-control deserting him for the moment.
"Yes. I know why she feigned death; I know how you have protected her. You have been a kind friend to me, Mr. Hilliston, and to my mother. I am doubly in your debt."
Hilliston took the hand held out to him by Claude, and pressed it cordially. The speech relieved him from all apprehension. He now knew that Mrs. Bezel had kept their secret, and immediately took advantage of the restored confidence of Claude. His quick wit grasped the situation at once.
"My dear fellow," he said with much emotion, "I loved your poor father too much not to do what I could for his widow and son. I hope you do not blame me for suppressing the truth."
"No. I suppose you acted for the best. Still, I would rather you had informed me that my mother was still alive."
"To what end? It would only have made you miserable. I did not want to reveal anything; but your mother insisted that you should be made acquainted with the past, and so—I gave you the papers."
"I am glad you did so."
"And now, what do you intend to do?" asked Hilliston slowly. "You know as much as I do. Is there any clew to guide you in the discovery that your mother still lives?"