“You shall see; I will call them,” said Mr. Faxon.

Dalhousie and his wife, followed by Uncle Nathan and Pat Fegan, entered the room.

Jaspar fixed his glaring eyes upon those whom he supposed were rotting within the precincts of his Inquisition.  His power of speech seemed to have deserted him, and he shook all over like an aspen-leaf.

To Jaspar alone on the estate was the secret of Dalhousie’s imprisonment known.  He had not approached the jail, and if any other person was aware that it had been undermined, they had not communicated the fact to him.

As the last party entered, Dr. Vaudelier turned to look upon the new comers.  Starting suddenly from his chair, he approached them, and gazed with earnestness into the face of Delia.

“Is it possible!” said he.

“My God,—­my father!” and father and daughter were locked in each other’s embrace.

Maxwell, stripped of his disguise, and ruined in his own opinion, and in the opinion of everybody else, had watched all the proceedings we have narrated in silence.  Ashamed of the awkward appearance he made in his undress, and confused by the sudden change in his affairs, he was at a loss to know which way to turn.

Henry Carroll realized the sense of embarrassment that pervaded all parties, and was desirous of putting an end to the state of things which promised nothing but strife and confusion.  So he directed Hatchie to fasten Maxwell’s hands together, and keep him secure.  This step the attorney seemed not inclined to permit, and a struggle ensued.

“Mr. Dumont,” said he, “is this by your order?”

“No,” replied Jaspar, anxious to secure at least one friend.  “No!  I am still in my own house, and the law will protect me.”

“Certainly,” returned Maxwell; “this is all a farce.  There is not a single particle of evidence to disprove the will.”

“Well, now, I reckon there is a leetle grain,” said Uncle Nathan, stepping forward and producing the will, which had been intrusted to him on board the Chalmetta.  “This will set matters about right, I rayther guess.”

“What mean you, fellow?” said Jaspar.  “What is it?”

“The genuine will,” replied Hatchie, still holding Maxwell.  “I gave it into his hands.  To explain how I came by it, I need only call your attention to a certain night, when I surprised you and this honorable gentleman in this very apartment.”

“It is all over!” groaned Jaspar.

“This is a forgery!” exclaimed Maxwell.

“Ay, a forgery!” repeated Jaspar, catching the attorney’s idea.  “Who can prove that this is a correct will, and the other false?”

“I can,” said Dalhousie.  “Here is a duplicate copy, with letters explaining the reason for making it, in the testator’s own hand-writing.”

Dalhousie candidly stated the means by which he had obtained possession of the papers, and trusted his indiscretion would be overlooked.  Dr. Vaudelier frowned, as his son-in-law related the unworthy part he had performed, and perhaps felt a consciousness of the good intentions which had years before induced him to refuse his consent to the marriage of his daughter.