"Won't do!" said Vickers. "I insist that you put about and go into
Scarhaven again."
Andrius spread out his open palms and shook his head "Impossible!" he
answered. "We are already _en voyage_. Time presses. Be
placable--tomorrow you shall be released."
Vickers was about to answer this appeal with an angry refusal to be
either placable or tractable, but he suddenly stopped the words which
rose to his tongue. There was something in all this--some mystery, some
queer game, and it might be worth while to find it out.
"Where are you taking this yacht?" he demanded brusquely. "Come, now!"
"I am under--orders," said Andrius, with another smile.
"Whose orders?" persisted Vickers. "Look here--it's no use trying to
burke facts. Who's on board this vessel? You know what I mean. Is the man
who calls himself Squire of Scarhaven here?"
Andrius shook his head quietly and gave his questioner a shrewd glance.
"Mr. Vickers," he said meaningly, "I know you! You are a lawyer--though a
young one. Lawyers are guarded in their speech. Now--we are alone--we
four. No one can hear anything we say. Tell me--is that right what you
said to me on deck, that the man who has called himself Marston Greyle is
not so at all?"
"Absolutely right," replied Vickers.
"An impostor?" demanded Andrius.
"He is!"
"And never had any right to--anything?"
"No right whatever!"
"Then," said Andrius, with a polite inclination of his head and shoulders
to Audrey, "the truth is that everything of the Scarhaven property
belongs to this lady?"
"Everything!" exclaimed Vickers.
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