"But what young person do you mean? How can any young person have been your son Harry's mother except yourself?"
"He ain't really my son, you see, sir; he is the son of a young person who we took in, John and I, and who died at our house; Harry is her son."
A great change passed over Captain Bayley's face, the expression of impatience died out, and was succeeded by one almost of awe. He dropped the paper which he had hitherto held in his hand, and leaning forward he asked in low tones—
"Do you mean that a woman who had in her possession some article with my crest on it, and who had a child with her, died in your house?"
"Yes, sir, that's what I mean; the article is a little gold seal, with a red stone to it."
"How long ago was this?" came slowly from Captain Bayley's lips.
"About seventeen years ago," Mrs. Holl said. "The mother died a few days afterwards; the child is our Harry; and I came to ask you—but, good lawks!"
An ashen greyness had been stealing across the old officer's face, and Mrs. Holl was terrified at seeing him suddenly fall forward across the table.
She rushed to the door to ask for help. James was in the hall, having waited there, expecting momentarily to hear his master tell him to show his visitor out. He began to utter exclamations of dismay at seeing his master's senseless figure.
"I will lift him up," she said. "Run and fetch the butler and the cook, and then go for the doctor as quick as you can run; he has got a stroke."