He stood with open arms at the bottom of the yellow steps.
For a moment she looked at him with wide grey eyes. Then recognition began to dawn in them. “It’s—my—daddy!” she cried, and jumped down into his arms.
Inspector Grey looked the other way, and the policeman blew his nose—he was a family man himself.
The morning sun filled the big library, and shone on the musty old leather-backed books, the mahogany table, and quaint dog-irons in the fireplace.
Very silent and wide-eyed, David, Bill and Nipper sat on three big leather chairs. The Mysterious Tramp (now clad in a grey flannel suit, his arm in a black silk sling) sat in a deep armchair; and on the hearthrug stood Mr. Ogden, his face set and pale, his knobbly hands working nervously.
“Boys,” he said, “my grandsons; Mr. Graham—I have something to say to you of a very grave nature. It is difficult to say—let us get it over quickly.
“In the past I was guilty of a very terrible crime. To cover my own guilt and to escape its just punishment, I played a horrible trick upon an innocent man, by which he was accused of my crime. He suffered the seven years’ imprisonment that was my desert. He lost the little daughter whom he loved. He lost all. His career was ruined. He was turned out into the world—a tramp.
“And I? I lived here in luxury—luxury bought at his expense. Did my luxury make me happy? No. The canker of remorse was eating into my heart.
“Then came a memorable night when the man I had wronged saw me in the power of my enemies, saw his wrong about to be avenged. But he had forgiven me. He did that which is the highest sign of love which one man can give another—he risked his life to save mine.