"Go on then and talk, if you want to," he said. "I don't care. I don't have to listen. Talk, if you're pining for it." And Ste. Marie, as briefly as he could, told him the truth of the whole affair from the beginning, as he had told it to Coira O'Hara. Only, he laid special stress upon Charles Stewart's present expectations from the new will; and he assured the boy that no document his grandfather might have asked him to sign could have given away his rights in his father's fortune since he was a minor, and had no legal right to sign away anything at all even if he wished to.
"If you will look back as calmly and carefully as you can," he said, "you will find that you didn't begin to suspect your grandfather of anything wrong until you had talked with Captain Stewart. It was your uncle's explanation of the thing that made you do that. Well, remember what he had at stake—I suppose it is a matter of several millions of francs. And he needs them. His affairs are in a bad way."
He told also about the pretended search which Captain Stewart had so long maintained, and of how he had tried to mislead the other searchers whose motives were honest.
"It has been a gigantic gamble, my friend," he said at the last. "A gigantic and desperate gamble to get the money that should be yours. You can end it by the mere trouble of climbing over that wall yonder, and taking the Clamart tram back to Paris. As easily as that you can end it—and, if I am not mistaken, you can at the same time save an old man's life—prolong it at the very least." He took a step forwards.
"I beg you to go!" he said very earnestly. "You know the whole truth now. You must see what danger you have been and are in. You must know that I am telling you the truth. I beg you to go back to Paris."
And from where she stood, a little aside, Coira O'Hara said—
"I beg you too, Arthur. Go back to them!"
The boy dropped down upon a tree stump which was near, and covered his face with his hands. The two who watched him could see that he was trembling violently. Over him their eyes met and they questioned each other with a mute and anxious gravity—
"What will he do?" For everything was in Arthur Benham's weak hands now.
For a little time, which seemed hours to all who were there, the lad sat still hiding his face, but suddenly he sprang to his feet and once more stood staring into Ste. Marie's quiet eyes.