CHAPTER XLVII.
CONCLUSION.
By this time the other inmates of the house, including Mrs. Macdonald, had assembled in the doorway in various stages of attire, in a state of consternation and alarm. I had no inkling of what the affair meant; my first thought was to revive Flora. I placed her in a big chair, and the factor hurried off for brandy. Meanwhile Captain Rudstone had waved off the detaining hold of the law clerk. He stood with folded arms, pale to the lips, regarding me with an expression of half-veiled scorn.
Macdonald returned with the liquor, and a small portion of it, forced between Flora’s teeth, quickly brought her round. She insisted on rising, and clung to me for support.
“Has he escaped?” she asked eagerly. “No, there he is!” she pointed to Captain Rudstone. “Liar, thief, impostor!” she said, half-hysterically. “You are unmasked at last—and by a woman! Denzil, the papers!”
“See, I have them!” I replied.
“Then read them—quick!”
“But what does it mean? Explain, Flora!”
“The papers—they will tell all!”
“Wait!” interrupted Captain Rudstone. “Permit me, gentlemen, to end this little comedy with a word. It is very simple. I have played my game, and I have lost—a woman was too sharp for me. I yield to necessity, and throw up my cards. Mr. Carew, I congratulate you. My lord, you are the rightful Earl of Heathermere!”