This man Denham pretended to play the part, and she has only lately been undeceived.
Also, Mr. Steel, you must know that there is no Walter Franklin.
The man at the Priory is the scoundrel you know as Wilson, the head of the Scarlet Cross Society and the murderer of Miss Kent."
"Not that last," interposed Dane, while Steel dropped into a seat transfixed with astonishment. "Denham did not kill her.
He does not know who did.
He told me so."
"He would tell you anything to save himself," said Olga.
"No," replied Dane, "he tells me all his secrets.
At one time I should have died before I revealed them, but Denham has treated me cruelly.
I owe him no gratitude.
For years I slaved for him. I did all that a man could do for his sake.
What reward have I got?
He has beaten me like a dog.
He has left me to starve.
He has delivered me up to those members of our society who hate me.
Since he came in for this money——"
"Wrongfully," put in Giles.
"As you say, sir—wrongfully.
But since he became George Franklin and a wealthy man, he told me plainly that he washed his hands of me.
He gave me a small sum, and sent me to America, promising an annuity. It was not paid.
I wrote—I threatened.
He laughed at me.
So I have come back from America to punish him." He turned to Olga and continued vehemently, "Do you think that I would have told you what I did, Princess, had I not hated the man?
No.
Not even for the love I bear you would I have done that.
You sent me to Mr. Steel at Bournemouth.
I knew that he was a detective, and went prepared to tell all about Denham's wickedness, even although I incriminated myself."
"But you did not do so," said Steel dryly; "you ran away."
"And why?
Because you mentioned that you suspected Miss Denham of a crime.
I held my tongue until I could see some chance of proving her innocence.
Had I told you all I knew then you would have had her arrested, and let her know the shame of the man—her father."
"He is not her father," said Olga again.
"I know nothing about that," replied Dane, sitting down; "he always said that he was her father, and I had no reason to believe otherwise.
But I am glad to hear that he is not.
She is too good and pure to be the daughter of such a man.
I have known her for years.
She is an angel.
She nursed me through an illness.
I would do anything to prove my gratitude for her sake.
I held my hand from harming Denham because I thought he was her father, and——"
"You need do so no longer," cried Ware, whose face was bright when he heard this praise of Anne; "she is the daughter of George Franklin, of Jamaica.
Denham assumed the name to get the Powell money."
"Then," cried Dane, flinging wide his arms in a most dramatic manner, "all I know you shall know.
I turn King's evidence."
"The best way to save your own skin," said Steel dryly; "you are an Irishman, are you not?"
Dane nodded.
"Born in New York," said he.
"Humph!" murmured Steel, but so low that only Giles heard him, "all the better.
You would betray your own mother if it suited you."