“One of the minions of the law,” I said to myself; “the affair has got wind after all.” As I was about to take my seat he came forward and asked if he had the pleasure of addressing Mr. F—— of Blank Street. Resolved to brazen it out to the last, I admitted my identity.
“You are acquainted with Dr. Wygram, I think?” he continued, interrogatively.
I owned that I was. Denial, at this stage, would have been useless.
“I am his son,” he said smilingly.
“His son!” I gasped. Then, after all, Dr. Wygram’s second experiment had succeeded, and he who was before me had been freed from the spell of his youth. Yes, there was no doubt of it! He was now a man! “Is it possible?” I repeated, gazing at him with astonishment.
“I think there is no doubt of it,” he replied coolly. “You will be sorry to learn that my father is far from well,” he resumed. “I have been from home for a long time, but am just going down to see him, in Cornwall.”
“Just going down to see him?” This was mystery upon mystery.
“My dear sir,” I said in despair, “I am very sorry indeed to hear of your father’s illness, but would you kindly answer me one question as distinctly as you can. If you are Dr. Wygram’s son, how is it that you do not remember me?”
“I do now most distinctly,” he replied. “I remember travelling with you and my father, many years ago, when I was going to school in the North.”
Heavens! Then all the years, since then, had been a blank to him!