The Mynns' Mystery Part 41

"You have the scar, then, made by your enemy's knife?"

"Yes, sir, here," said the young man, slightly pressing back his hair, and bending forward so that the light of the shaded lamp fell upon a red line about half an inch from the roots.

"And the injury to your head?"

"Rather an ugly place still, sir. The skull was slightly fractured. Do you wish for that proof of my ident.i.ty?"

"I should like that proof of the truth of your story, sir. I am a lawyer."

"Give me your hand, then."

He took the old man's index finger, bent lower, and pressed it upon the back of his head.

The old man shuddered and drew back.

"And if you want any further proof that I am the man I say, I have one here that I had forgotten. When I was a child, for some freak, my father tattooed a heart and dart upon my breast. There they are."

He tore open the flannel shirt he wore, and displayed the blue marks upon his clear white skin.

"There, sir; that is all I can tell you now. The next thing is to confront Mr Dan Portway."

"You think, then, that your old companion--I mean you wish me to believe that your old companion took everything he could to prove his ident.i.ty, and has come here, and traded upon the knowledge he won?"

"And come here and laid claim to the estate, sir. Yes, I could lay my life that is the case."

At that moment there was a tap at the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

"IT'S HIM; IT'S HIM!"

"Come in."

Mrs Denton entered timidly, looking nervously at the stranger, and then said deprecatingly:

"Mrs Hampton sent me, sir, to say she should be glad to speak to you, sir."

"Yes, yes, of course. Well, sir, I have heard all you wanted to say?"

"No, not yet," cried the young man excitedly. "I say, old lady, you remember me?"

The old woman looked at him wistfully, and shook her head.

"No, sir, no," she said.

"Oh, yes, you do," he cried merrily. "Don't you remember washing me when I was a little chap in a sort of tin bath with spots on it, red spots, and the inside was white, with shiny places, where the paint had come off."

The old woman gazed at him wildly.

"You remember? The bottom curved up and as I stood on it, gave way, and then came up again with a loud b.u.mp."

She still gazed at him silently, while he seemed to be trying to evoke old memories.

"Yes, to be sure, and you put me to bed in a great four-post affair, with heavy ta.s.sels and bobs round the top, and they swung to and fro, and--to be sure, yes, you set a great night-shade full of round holes on the floor, with a tin cup of water in it, and a long thin rushlight in the middle. Oh, yes, I remember seeing those holes reflected on the wall."

"Yes, my dear," cried the old woman excitedly, "and it has never been used since. No, Mr Hampton, sir, there are no long rushlights now."

"Come, sir," cried the young man excitedly, "we are beginning to feel bottom after all."

"But--but--" faltered the old woman, and then stopped.

"Why, my dear old lady," cried the young man, taking her withered hands, "I can remember you holding my little palms together as I knelt on the bed, and teaching me to say a kind of prayer. Let me see, what was it-- I've never heard it since--yes, that's it:

"Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, G.o.d bless the bed that I lay on, Four corners to my bed, Six angels round me spread, Two at head, two at feet, And two to guard me while I sleep."

The poor old woman's jaw dropped, her eyes dilated, and her hands went up, as the speaker went on, and as he ended the simple, pious old doggerel, she burst into a hysterical fit of sobbing as she cried:

"Yes, yes, yes, it is--it is him, sir. Oh, my dear, dear boy; and you growed to be such a fine young man. It is you, Master George. Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!"

She flung her arms about his neck, and he held her to his breast, kissing her withered old brow as he patted her cheek gently, ignorant of the fact that Mrs Hampton and Gertrude had followed to the open door, and were waiting impatiently for the old woman's return.

"Come, old granny," cried the young man, "this is more like coming home.

Heaven bless all memories, say I."

"Yes, my dear," sobbed the old woman, looking at him proudly, as she laid her hands on his breast, and gazed in his face.

"And--Ha, ha, ha! The sugar drops you made me, and--by Jove, yes.

What's become of the old fruit-knife, and the white needle-case, and that bit of sweet root you used to keep in that big old pocket. Don't you remember? You gave them to me to play with."

The old woman uttered a little laugh full of childish delight as she bent sidewise, thrust one arm through an opening, raked about, and, as playfully as if she were dealing with a child, brought out by degrees the articles he had named, all preserved as old folk do preserve such things, and in addition a little square tin box, with grotesque heads stamped thereon.

"But you don't recollect that?" she said playfully.

"Yes, I do," he cried eagerly; "it's the one out of which I spilt all the pins."

"May we come in?" said Mrs Hampton, in her stern, harsh voice.

"Yes, yes, ma'am," cried the old woman excitedly. "Miss Gertrude, my dear, oh, be quick! It's him; it's him; and me not to have known him directly I saw his face."

A short, dry cough from the lawyer checked her, as, flushed and trembling with excitement, Gertrude stood once more in the room.

"Yes, yes, Denton," said the old lawyer; "this is all very good evidence, but--"

"Oh, it's him, sir! it's him! Miss Gertrude, we've all been dreadfully cheated. It's him; it's him!"

"Mrs Denton, have the goodness to be silent," said Mr Hampton sternly.