To-night it is--you, to-morrow--" Mr. Chichester's right
hand vanished into his bosom as Barnabas strode forward, but, on the
instant, Billy Button was between them.
"Stay, my Lord!" he cried, "look upon this face,--'t is the face of
my friend Barnaby Bright, but, my Lord, it is also the face of
Joan's son. You've heard tell of Joan, poor Joan who was unhappy,
and ran away, and got lost,--you'll mind Joan Beverley?" Now, in the
pause that followed, as Mr. Chichester gazed at Barnabas, his
narrowed eyes opened, little by little, his compressed lips grew
slowly loose, and the tasselled cane slipped from his fingers, and
lay all neglected.
"Sir," said Barnabas at last, "this is what I would have told you. I
am the lawful son of Joan Beverley, whose maiden name I took for--a
purpose. I have but to prove my claim and I can dispossess you of
the inheritance you hold, which is mine by right. But, sir, I have
enough for my needs, and I am, therefore, prepared to forego my just
claim--on a condition."
Mr. Chichester neither moved nor spoke.
"My condition," Barnabas continued, "is this. That, from this hour,
you loose whatever hold you have upon Ronald Barrymaine,--that you
have no further communication with him, either by word or letter.
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