"Mr. Heathercliffe," begins the cross-examiner, "Your two dispatches are signed 'Bathurst.' Who is this Bathurst?"
"Mr. Bathurst, sir, is a very able detective."
"Ah! He is known to you, I presume?"
"He is," bowing gravely.
"Now, Mr. Heathercliffe, it strikes me as singular that an English gentleman should be on such familiar terms with a Yankee detective; and still more strange that an English nobleman should be masquerading in America, as a country physician. I should like an explanation of these things."
"My brother came to America on account of family troubles, sir. Is it necessary that I make a fuller statement?"
He asks this hesitatingly, and Mr. Rand fancies that he sees a point to be gained. He does not see that O'Meara is struggling to conceal the smile of satisfaction that will creep into his face.
"I consider it necessary, sir. It is high time that we knew why we have been honored by this incognito—nobleman."
The witness turns an unruffled countenance towards the judge.
"If the Court will permit me to tell my brother's story in my own way, (it will take some time,) I shall be glad to enlighten this legal gentleman."