But if the effect of the meeting on Douglas was disconcerting, it was as nothing to that produced on Mr Clayton. On first seeing the newcomer, he too looked puzzled and doubtful. Then gradually an expression of utter astonishment spread over his features. He literally gasped, and seemed so overwhelmed with amazement as to be bereft of the power of speech.
The surprise on the countenances of the two chief actors in the scene was reflected faintly on the faces of Lois Drew and the solicitor. But on Tanner’s there was triumph. If the girl and her cousin had not realised what was happening, he had. His plan had succeeded. That these two knew each other was established beyond any possibility of denial. It was as if each had shouted his recognition of the other aloud. He spoke quietly to the suspected man.
‘So you really are Edward Dale?’
The words seemed to restore the power of movement to Mr Clayton.
‘No,’ he almost shouted in his excitement. ‘It’s not Edward Dale. It’s Tom!’
Tanner jumped as if struck in the face.
‘What?’ he stammered. ‘What’s that you say? Tom? But—but—I thought—’
His voice trailed away into silence as the meaning of this discovery began to penetrate into his mind. Tom Dale was lost in the Numidian disaster thirty-five years before—so he had been told, and so every one had believed. But every one must have been wrong. If this were Tom, he must have escaped from the wreck. He must have escaped and he must have concealed his escape. Why? Why should he conceal it? Why, to get rid of his wife, of course. It was a case of desertion. He had had all her money; he hated her. Of course that was it. He would take the opportunity to change his name and make a bid for freedom. But his wife—And then Tanner gasped in his turn as he saw the further consequences involved. His wife had married Sir William Ponson, thinking her first husband was dead. But now it was clear that had been no marriage at all. Lady Ponson was Lady Ponson no longer, but Mrs Tom Dale—the wife of the drunken ex-clerk and suspected blackmailer! Sir William was not married. Austin and Enid were illegitimate! No wonder Sir William submitted to blackmail rather than allow such a scandal to become public. As innocent in the matter as the babes unborn, Sir William and the woman he had considered his wife, as well as his son and daughter, would have had to pay as dear as if the whole affair had been deliberate.
Tanner glanced at Mr Clayton. His excitement had subsided, and a look of fierce indignation against Dale was showing on his face. Tanner spoke.
‘I suppose there can be no mistake?’