ber’s head, that the worthlessness of the bundle was known to him. It was probable, too, from the prolonged silent stare with which he gazed and gazed at the Duke’s counterfeit, that the latter’s identity was no longer a secret.
With quite a natural movement Forsyth edged a little nearer to the man with the lamp, and the movement seemed to break the spell which held Ziegler speechless. The chief turned abruptly to his followers.
“I must have a word with this gentleman—with the Duke—alone,” he squeaked. “Go out into the garden and await close outside—within call. Here, I will keep the lamp.” Forsyth noticed that the well-shaped hand with which he grasped the contrivance was shaking violently—so violently, that the ray with which he guided his four subordinates through the groined arches to the door wavered like a will-o’-the-wisp. He waited till the last one had filed out before he turned again to the man who had baffled him.
“Well, Mr. Forsyth?” he piped, and the high-pitched note quivered and trembled as the lamp-ray had done.
“Well, sir?” Forsyth repeated, in blank amazement at the sparing of his life, for unless
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