"He will not appear? What mean you?" her voice suddenly changed; she laid her hand upon his shoulder. "Do you mean to say that you will murder him, dear father?"
"He will not appear, I said, and say it again," he resumed in the same determined voice; "and the inheritance of this incredible estate will fall either to the seven, or to myself, the brother, or,—are you listening, daughter?—to the twin brother of this boy."
"Twin brother?" echoed Frank, utterly amazed.
"Yes, twin brother. The time is short, and we must put what we have to say in the fewest words. You remember your lost brother, Gulian?"
"I do."
"He was not your brother, although you were always taught to regard him as such. He was the twin brother of the boy who now leans against yonder pillar. On the night of his birth (wishing to destroy every obstacle between myself and my brother's estate), I stole him from his mother's arms. But when I learned the details of my brother's singular will, I resolved to rear him as my own, and keep him in reserve until the 25th of December, 1844, when thoroughly under my influence, and yet backed by undeniable proofs of his paternity, he would appear and claim his father's estate. It was not until 1832, that I learned that he had a twin brother in existence; you know what pains I took to sweep all proof of his existence from the memory of man; and it was only last night that I learned that this twin brother (now standing by yonder pillar), was still in being. Now, Frank, is the case clear? The one whom you were taught to call your brother Gulian, and to regard as lost, is neither your brother nor is he lost. He is living, and at my will, on the 25th of December, 1844,—to-morrow,—will appear in place of yonder youth, unless the marriage takes place at once."
Frank was utterly confounded. Well she remembered the revelation which Nameless made while in the clairvoyant state; that his mother had given birth to two children, one of whom had been secreted by the father, the other stolen by the uncle, but that the lost boy, whom she had been taught to regard as her brother Gulian, was one of these twins, was the brother of Nameless,—this was indeed a revelation, an overwhelming surprise. For a moment she was silent; her brain throbbed painfully.
"But how am I to believe this story?"
"You can disbelieve it, if you like," responded her father drily, "and risk the consequences—"
"But will not the marriage be as certain to-morrow, the day after, nay a week hence,—" she faltered.