The man seemed to have aged since Tanner had first seen him at his house at Yelverton. His face was paler, his hair seemed greyer, and he was even smaller and more stooped. Innocent or guilty, he was already paying for his connection with the crime.
“Take a seat, Mr. Douglas,” said Tanner, moving forward and placing a chair where the full light from the window shone on the other’s face. “I have asked you to meet my friends here, to discuss some points about this case. But I have to repeat my warning that you are not bound to make any statement or to answer any questions you may be asked unless you choose. This lady is Miss Drew, a friend of the Ponson family; this gentleman,” he indicated Daunt, “is Mr. Austin Ponson’s solicitor, and this,” he waved his other hand, “is Chief Inspector Edgar. I think you already know our friend at the desk.”
As Tanner spoke he signed to Mr. Clayton, who swung round suddenly and faced Douglas.
The latter had seemed very much mystified by the whole proceedings. His eyes had followed Tanner’s gestures as each member of the party had been mentioned, and he had made each a slight bow. But when he saw Mr. Clayton’s face he remained as if turned to stone. At first for a moment he seemed puzzled and doubtful, then his eyes fixed themselves in a tense stare on the other’s features, his face grew slowly pale and drops of sweat formed on his forehead. Then, as if some second thought had passed through his mind, an expression of something like relief showed in his eyes. So he sat, staring, motionless.
But if the effect of the meeting on Douglas was disconcerting, it was as nothing to that produced on Mr. Clayton. On first seeing the newcomer, he too looked puzzled and doubtful. Then gradually an expression of utter astonishment spread over his features. He literally gasped, and seemed so overwhelmed with amazement as to be bereft of the power of speech.
The surprise on the countenances of the two chief actors in the scene was reflected faintly on the faces of Lois Drew and the solicitor. But on Tanner’s there was triumph. If the girl and her cousin had not realised what was happening, he had. His plan had succeeded. That these two knew each other was established beyond any possibility of denial. It was as if each had shouted his recognition of the other aloud. He spoke quietly to the suspected man.
“So you really are Edward Dale?”
The words seemed to restore the power of movement to Mr. Clayton.
“No,” he almost shouted in his excitement. “It’s not Edward Dale. It’s Tom!”
Tanner jumped as if struck in the face.
“What?” he stammered. “What’s that you say? Tom? But—but—I thought—”
His voice trailed away into silence as the meaning of this discovery began to penetrate into his mind. Tom Dale was lost in the Numidian disaster thirty-five years before—so he had been told, and so everyone had believed. But everyone must have been wrong. If this were Tom, he must have escaped from the wreck. He must have escaped and he must have concealed his escape. Why? Why should he conceal it? Why, to get rid of his wife, of course. It was a case of desertion. He had had all her money; he hated her. Of course that was it. He would take the opportunity to change his name and make a bid for freedom. But his wife—And then Tanner gasped in his turn as he saw the further consequences involved. His wife had married Sir William Ponson, thinking her first husband was dead. But now it was clear that had been no marriage at all. Lady Ponson was Lady Ponson no longer, but Mrs. Tom Dale—the wife of the drunken ex-clerk and suspected blackmailer! Sir William was not married. Austin and Enid were illegitimate! No wonder Sir William submitted to blackmail rather than allow such a scandal to become public. As innocent in the matter as the babes unborn, Sir William and the woman he had considered his wife, as well as his son and daughter, would have had to pay as dear as if the whole affair had been deliberate.
Tanner glanced at Mr. Clayton. His excitement had subsided, and a look of fierce indignation against Dale was showing on his face. Tanner spoke.
“I suppose there can be no mistake?”
“Mistake?” the other burst out. “Man alive, look at him. By heaven I wish there was a mistake!”
“We had better bring him up to Gateshead, and see if anyone else will confirm your identification.”
There was an interruption from the prisoner.
“You needn’t trouble,” he said sadly. “I admit it. I am Tom Dale.”
“You escaped from the Numidian?”
“I escaped. I was picked up by a fishing smack and taken into Gloucester. I was on board four days before we got in, and I had plenty of time to make my plans. I don’t pretend I wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t so bad as you think. I dare say you won’t believe me, but I did it for Ethel’s sake. She was tied to me, and I knew I was a bad egg and had all but ruined her. And what’s more, I knew I would ruin her outright if I went back to her. So I deserted her. But all I rid her of was trouble. I thought I would give her another chance with her life, and I did. I swore she would never know. And if I did go wrong, she at least has had her life happy since because of it.”
The man spoke simply, and with a certain dignity which impressed his hearers.
“How did you conceal your identity?” Tanner asked.
“Very easily. I had made friends on the voyage with another passenger. He had told me he was alone in the world. I saw him drown. I took his name.”
“And then you came here and blackmailed the man
