“Mrs Denton?”
“I beg pardon, sir; it’s only that I’m so glad to see his bonny face again.”
“I shall,” continued the old lawyer—
“Excuse me for interposing, sir,” said the young man excitedly, for he had flushed as he met Gertrude’s eyes fixed wonderingly, and yet with a pleased expression upon his. “You are a lawyer, and the ways of the law are said to be slow. The case is this—”
He spoke at the old lawyer, but he looked at Gertrude the while.
“I’m George Harrington, and during my illness the man I trusted has, believing me dead, come over and robbed me of my birthright. The first thing to be done is to bring us face to face.”
“Yes,” assented Mrs Hampton; “to bring them face to face.”
Gertrude drew a long breath, and it seemed as if a terrible load had been lifted from her breast.
“Without confronting the man who, I say, has imposed upon you all, and whom I believe to be Dan Portway, I have no means of proving who I am—save by the tattooed marks.”
“Which he possesses, too,” said the lawyer gravely.