‘Is it true? Is it true?’
‘True as death!’ responded Peebles.
‘Where is he?’ cried the old man. ‘For God’s sake, Peebles, bring him here! Let me see him!’
His face darkened with a sudden expression of doubt.
‘Peebles,’ he cried brokenly; ‘you’re not playing with me? You’re not deceiving me? I’ve been a good master to you these years past; you couldn’t—you wouldn’t——’
‘God forbid!’ said Peebles. ‘It’s gospel truth.’
‘But,’ asked Kilpatrick, ‘why has Blake been silent all these years?’
‘Because,’ said Peebles, ‘Richard Conseltine has made it worth his while.’
‘By Heaven!’ cried the old lord, ‘I’ll break every bone in Dick’s body! Peebles, you don’t know what I’ve suffered all these years. Even from you I’ve hidden my miseries. I’ve looked at Desmond, standing side by side with that ugly cub of Dick’s, and ground my teeth to think that I couldn’t leave the title to him. God bless you, Peebles—God bless you for the news! ‘Fore Gad! I shall go mad with joy. Peebles, I’ll double your wages if you’ll get the boy here in an hour from now. What are you standing glowering there for? Run, you old rascal, run, and bring Desmond to me! My eyes are hungry for him! I’ll acknowledge him before the world! He shall marry Dulcie before the week’s out, and I’ll live to nurse my grandson yet! Dick’s face will be a sight to see when he learns that I know this.’
Peebles did not move. He was revolving in his mind the wisdom of at once breaking to Kilpatrick the news that the wife he deemed dead was living.