"You see, I mistrusted this young man who was carrying every thing before him with a high hand, right in my very teeth, and I watched him. I pumped him to see if I couldn't get him to tell something about himself. But the fellow was always on his guard, and always told the same story. This is what he tells: He says that his father was Ralph Brandon of Brandon Hall, Devonshire, and that he got very poor--he was ruined, in fact, by--I beg your pardon, Sir John, but he says it was you, and that you drove the family away. They then came over to America, and he got to Cincinnati. The old man, he says, died before they left, but he won't tell what became of the others. I confess I believed it was all a lie, and didn't think there was any such place as Brandon Hall, so I determined to find out, naturally enough, Sir John, when two millions were at stake."
"Well, I suddenly found my health giving way, and had to come to Europe. You see what a delicate creature I am!"
"And I came here after wandering about, trying to find it. I heard at last that there was a place that used to be Brandon Hall, though most people call it Potts Hall. Now, I thought, my fine young man, I'll catch you; for I'll call on Sir John himself and ask him."
"You did right, Sir," said Potts, who had taken an intense interest in this narrative. "I'm the very man you ought to have come to. I can tell you all you want. This Brandon is a miserable swindler."
"Good! I thought so. You'll give me that, Sir John, over your own name, will you?" cried Brandon, in great apparent excitement.
"Of course I will," said Potts, "and a good deal more. But tell me, first, what that young devil said as to how he got to Cincinnati? How did he find his way there?"
"All I know," said Potts, "is this. I got official information that they all died at Quebec."
Brandon looked suddenly at the floor and gasped. In a moment he had recovered.
"Curse him! then this fellow is an impostor?"
"No," said Potts, "he must have escaped. It's possible. There was some confusion at Quebec about names."
"Then his name may really be Frank Brandon?"
"It must be," said Potts. "Anyhow, the others are all right."
"All right; dead you know. That's why he don't like to tell you about them."