Before he could say more the hand of the law was upon him, and a stern but kindly intentioned voice, said briefly, "Hush, man,--you are closing the door of a prison cell upon yourself by your talking; come, answer me and be brief,--are you or are you not Maurice Sinclair?"
"Are you or are you not, Lawrence Maynard?"
At this question Elizabeth leaned heavily forward on Mrs. Sinclair's arm, straining every nerve in her eagerness to catch his answer.
Then the officer turned to the excited group before him and with an attempt to shorten the trying scene, said curtly, "Do any of you know this man, and if so, by what name do you know him?"
There was a moment's silence, then a stranger stepped forward from behind the others and almost simultaneously the two men looked into each other's eyes and exclaimed:
Then the younger of the two, forgetful of his weaker frame, sprang angrily forward and grasping the physician's shoulder, hissed fiercely between his teeth, "You called me Jack Fenton, but you know that name is false. You, and you only, can tell my father's name; speak, man, and clear the mystery of my birth, or by the God above--"
But the effort was too much for his feeble strength and he sank helplessly to the floor. Worn out by months and years of intense excitement and threatened danger; dependent upon the uncertain issues of chance and speculation for his maintenance and haunted by a morbid thirst for the avenging of that shame and secrecy that dwelt upon his birth, it was little wonder that the shock of present circumstances benumbed his senses.
When at last the room was cleared, Dr. Seward bent above the prostrate man and deep in his own heart the pain of a life's remorse sprang up and nearly overcame him.
How much the young man knew of his part in the awful tragedy, he did not know, but deep in his own heart he felt that the responsibility of this wretched mortal's sins and miseries rested in great measure upon his shrinking shoulders, and satisfied now, beyond a doubt, that this was the child whose parentage he had so long concealed, he turned over and over in his mind the possibilities of yet undoing the wrong which he assisted, so materially, to do, thereby removing from his own accusing conscience the secret that so long had been its burden. But for Mrs. Sinclair's sake the words must yet remain unspoken. The prisoner would be speedily returned to London, and upon Lady Van Tyne he depended for aid in securing for her son, not only all that could possibly be done to make his trial speedy and his condemnation light, but the deathless silence which should save one noble woman from the knowledge of a loved one's treachery. Would Lady Van Tyne do this? Dr. Seward hardly knew, but he trusted that a mother's love would brave the scorn of public censure, and that human sympathy for a suffering sister would raise a shield of silence for the trusting wife's defence.