She went pale as death. My words, I saw, had a startling effect upon her. She looked first at Kirk and then at the man posing as her father—the man who had secured many thousands of pounds for a secret that was not his own.
“Then you refuse to accept even the park-keeper’s testimony?” Kirk remarked, while the man who had assumed the Professor’s identity walked across to the writing-table and began looking at some letters lying upon it.
“I do; my intention is to unmask you all!” The impostor, the fading light falling upon his clear-cut countenance, turned quickly, and upon his face rested an expression of deadly fear that I had not previously noticed. Hitherto his attitude had been one of bold unconcern. But now, realising my determination, he had grown alarmed. He saw that he had carried the imposture too far.
“Ethelwynn,” he said, in a low, strained voice, “I—I wish to speak with Mr Holford. Will you leave us for a little while, dear. Go into the Red Room, and we’ll join you there later.”
“My dear sir,” I exclaimed, “I don’t desire to hear any more of your denials.”
“I’ll go, dad, of course,” replied the girl, who, in obedience with his suggestion, left the room.
I turned to follow her, but with a sudden movement he placed himself before the door, exclaiming anxiously:
“Mr Holford, pray hear me for one moment, I beg of you. I want to tell you something—to confess!”
“Ah!” I laughed triumphantly. “At last! you will confess! Good! I am all attention.”
“Listen carefully to the facts, Holford,” urged Kirk. “The Professor’s peril lies in the knowledge possessed by one man—yourself. It is therefore but just that you should know the truth.”