"
Arthur looked at him with a vague fear in his face. It seemed suddenly as
if this man had always been in his life--as if he would never go out of
it again.
"I am not sure that I care to hear it," he wavered.
"You must hear it. Almost the last words that Jem Agar spoke to me were
requesting me to tell you this."
"You promise that that is true?"
Arthur was surprised at his own suspicions. It was so unlike him, whose
nature, too weak to compass vice, had never allowed the suspicion of vice
or deceit in others to trouble him.
"I promise," replied Seymour Michael.
Arthur gathered himself together for an effort. His distrust of this man
was almost a panic.
"Then tell me," he said.
Michael leant back in his chair, fixing his pleasant eyes on Arthur's
pale face.
"The estate is not yours," he said. "Your step-brother, Jem Agar, is not
dead."
"Not dead!" repeated Arthur, without any joy in his voice. "Not dead!
Then who are you? Tell me who you are!"
"Ah! That I cannot tell you.
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