"A cousin of mine . . . Wilfred Rolleston, a damned brute, capable of anything . . . a scoundrel . . . a crook . . . oh, a madman! A real madman . . . a dipsomaniac. . . ."
"And he's like you in appearance isn't he?" asked Simon, understanding the mistake that had been made.
"I suppose so."
"And it was to steal the miniature and the pearls that he attacked you?"
"That . . . and something else that he's even more keen on."
"What?"
"He's in love with Isabel. He asked her to marry him at a time when he hadn't fallen so low. Then Bakefield kicked him out."
"Oh, it would be too awful," stammered Simon, "if that man had succeeded in kidnapping Isabel!"
He stood up. Rolleston, exhausted, said:
"Save her, Simon."