“Yes, mine. I am Osmund Maiden!”
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE RIGHTFUL CLAIMANT.
Imagine, if you can, the effect this amazing assertion had upon us. We were stupefied—struck speechless; we could only stare breathlessly, with dilated eyes, at Captain Rudstone. Had we heard aright? Was he really the missing Osmund Maiden? Folding his arms on his breast he returned our scrutiny with a cynical smile.
“He is mad—mad!” gasped Christopher Burley.
The law clerk pointed with trembling hand, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whipcords. His face was of a purple hue.
“Captain Rudstone, is this a jest?” cried the factor, as he rose from his kneeling position. “On my word you will find it a sorry one—”
“It is not a jest, sir.”