"Did I hear aright?" exclaimed the colonel, scanning him narrowly.
"Yes, I am your nephew, the son of Sir Oswald Rawcliffe," replied the young man.
Colonel Conway uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"I don't doubt what you say," he cried. "You certainly bear a remarkable resemblance to your father. Am I to conclude you are the missing heir?"
"Even so," replied Atherton. "I have sufficient proofs to support my claim whenever I choose to make it. But it is a long story, and cannot be told now. Dr. Byrom of Manchester will vouch for the truth of the statement."
And at a sign from the young man the doctor stepped forward.
"I did not expect to be called up at this moment, colonel," said the doctor. "But you may rest satisfied that this young gentleman is your nephew. He is the lost Sir Conway Rawcliffe."
"But you did not serve under that name at Carlisle?" cried the colonel, eagerly. "If I remember right, you were known as Atherton Legh?"
"Exactly," replied the young man. "I have not yet assumed my rightful name and title."
"I am glad of it," cried the colonel. "By heaven! I am fairly perplexed how to act."