As Bennet entered the room, Eversleigh looked at him and forced a smile, but he turned livid when he observed the other's aspect. There was no smile on Bennet's face, but something disquieting and even threatening appeared upon it. Eversleigh, seeing it, said to himself that the expected day of reckoning had indeed come. His first feeling was almost one of relief, but that soon gave way to a determination to make as much of a stand as he could. He tried to encourage himself by thinking that Bennet had always been a friend of his and of his family. Unaware that Kitty had preferred Gilbert to Bennet, and of the sentiments Bennet now had with respect to his son, he had some hope that it might be possible to "do something with Harry," as he phrased it vaguely to himself.

"Well, Harry, back again?" he said, trying with a prodigious effort to speak calmly. "I did not anticipate seeing you so soon."

"Yes, Mr. Eversleigh," remarked Bennet, bluntly; "I have returned pretty quickly, because I desired to see you immediately with a view to asking you for an explanation of a circumstance which puzzles me extremely. Still, I dare say you can clear the matter up. It is about Beauclerk Mansions. I have just come from them this very minute."

As Bennet had come in Eversleigh had stood up; he now sank into his chair. Harry remained on his feet, gazing at the solicitor, and there was a note of anger in his voice as he addressed Eversleigh.

"An explanation, Harry," said Eversleigh, waving Bennet to take a seat beside him. "About what?"

"Well, Mr. Eversleigh," said Bennet, drily, "when I left you this morning I told you I would take a run down to the Mansions to have a last look at them; do you remember?"

"You made some little jest of it," returned Eversleigh, nervously.

"Yes; I was trying to appear light-hearted about it. I was not light-hearted really. But that does not matter in the slightest degree. I did go to the Mansions——"

Bennet stopped, as he was in doubt what to say next.

"You went to Beauclerk Mansions?" said Eversleigh; "and——"

"I'll tell you as exactly as I can what took place. On the pretext of inquiring if there was a flat to be let, I got into conversation with one of the porters. I saw the man did not know who I was. He told me there were two or three desirable flats vacant; would I care to look over them? I don't know quite why I did it, but I thought I would take a glance at the vacant flats, keeping the porter in talk the while. You follow me?" asked Harry, breaking off as he saw the eyes of the solicitor wandered over the room.

Eversleigh was listening, but not carefully; he guessed well enough what Bennet would tell him, and he was casting about for some appeal that would touch Bennet and induce him to stay his hand.

"Oh yes," he responded; "I am following you perfectly, Harry."

"As I went over the flats with the porter," Bennet resumed, "I noticed the property was in very good order, and I remarked to the man that it must be well managed and be very valuable. The porter replied that the property was well managed, especially since the new management had taken it up. I was surprised, as you may imagine, to hear of a new management, but I naturally supposed that you or rather Mr. Silwood, had made the change. I asked how long the new management had been in power, and was told it had been for about a year."

Bennet paused, gazed at Eversleigh, and repeated, "About a year."

"About a year," said Eversleigh, mechanically.

"The porter went on to say," continued Bennet, "that he understood the property had been in new hands for that time, and that was why it was in such good order—the new broom was sweeping cleaner than the old. When he spoke of the property being in new hands, I thought it more than a bit odd, and I asked him in whose hands the property now was. He gave me the name of a firm of house-agents of whom I have heard before, but not in connection with your firm, Mr. Eversleigh. This surprised me again, and I put the question if he knew who was the owner of the property, and he answered that it belonged to a company, named 'Modern Mansions, Limited.' When he said this, I looked at him in amazement, but I saw that he was in earnest, and stated what he believed to be true."

Again Bennet stopped and fixed his gaze on Eversleigh, but the solicitor said not a word—he opened his lips as if to speak, but remained silent.

"You do not speak, Mr. Eversleigh!" cried Bennet. "Well, let me finish my story. He had told me that the property belonged to 'Modern Mansions, Limited,' and he so surprised me that I blurted out that I thought he must be wrong, and that I had understood it was owned by a Mr. Bennet, whose father had been the original proprietor. 'No,' said the man; 'it did belong to him, but he sold it to the company just about twelve months ago!'"

Bennet paused once more, as if to give Eversleigh an opportunity of making a remark, but he did not avail himself of it.

"Still you do not speak!" cried Bennet. "But to finish with my yarn. I felt positively certain that the porter was making a big mistake, as I knew I had not sold Beauclerk Mansions, but I thought I would carry my inquiries a step further. Therefore, keeping up the pretence of wanting a flat, I asked the porter if he could get me a copy of the agreement or form of lease for a flat; no doubt, I said, there was a regular form to be had in the office of the company. That was so, he thought; would I go with him to the manager's office? Well, I did go, and I got the form; here it is," said Bennet, taking a printed paper from his pocket and placing it before Eversleigh.

"Not that there was any need of that as proof the Mansions were mine no longer," Bennet continued. "I had a short talk with the manager, and I soon had no doubt about it. Now, Mr. Eversleigh, you have heard what I have said. I demand an explanation from you. What have you to say?"

Eversleigh looked at Bennet, then at the ceiling, then at the floor, but could not find speech.

"Have you nothing to say? What meaning, Mr. Eversleigh, am I to place on your silence? Why don't you speak?"

Hitherto Bennet, believing like all the rest of the world that there could be nothing wrong with so eminent a firm as Eversleigh, Silwood and Eversleigh, had supposed there might be some explanation of these curious circumstances; he was suspicious, but imagined there might be a possible justification. What he could not understand was why Eversleigh had written and spoken to him as if the Mansions were still his. Eversleigh's silence now told him quite unmistakably there was something very wrong about the whole matter.

"Why don't you speak, Mr. Eversleigh?" he asked, roughly, springing from his chair and towering over the solicitor.

"Harry," began Eversleigh, brokenly, shrinking before the angry eyes of his client, "Harry, your property, as you know, was in Mr. Silwood's department of the office. Mr. Silwood——"

But Eversleigh paused tongue-tied; there was a slackening of the muscles of his face. He seemed on the point of collapse.

As Bennet regarded the solicitor the expression of his face become horrible; all the evil of his life seemed suddenly stamped upon it; it was cruel, fierce, brutal, devilish. He saw that Eversleigh had no explanation to offer; he realized that he had been the victim of fraud, and that his property was gone—it had been stolen from him by his solicitors! As this came home to him, his mood was little short of murderous, and it must be admitted there was some excuse for him.

"Silwood's death," he said harshly, "does not matter to me in the least. He is dead, and it is you that I have to deal with. What has become of my property?"

Harry's rough tones made Eversleigh shrink still more, but he managed to speak.

"Mr. Silwood is dead," he quavered, wishing the while that he was dead too. "But his death is so recent that there has not been sufficient time to go into all his affairs."

"I care nothing for his affairs. What has become of my property? Tell me that."

"You must know, Harry, that Mr. Silwood's death has made a great difference to me."

"It has nothing to do with me. What has become of my property?"

"It is possible," said Eversleigh, weakly, "that there may have been things in his department that are slightly irregular. No doubt," he went on more firmly, "he thought he was acting in your best interests when he sold your property."

"Sold my property," repeated Bennet, with a fierce snarl. "If he sold it, what did he sell it for? And where is the money?"

Eversleigh was mute.

"Again you have nothing to say! Now I ask you just one question. Did you know, or did you not know, when you wrote me yesterday that you would procure the advance of ten thousand pounds on the property, that it had been sold already? Answer me!"

Bennet's eyes blazed with rage and menace as he thundered the last words at Eversleigh.

Eversleigh partly rose from his chair, clutching as he did so at his collar; then he sat down with a loud groan, covered his face with his hands, and broke into sobs.

Bennet stood over him and shook him violently.

"You did know," he shouted. "You knew all the while that my flats had been sold. Do you know what you are? You are a thief and a swindler—that's what you are!"

"Harry," pleaded Eversleigh, feebly.

"Don't call me 'Harry,'" replied Bennet. "You have lied to me and stolen from me. I must think," he wound up, as he released his hold of the other and walked up and down the floor.

Meanwhile Eversleigh's sobs subsided, and he ventured to look at Bennet. Bennet noticed the glance at once.

"I believe," said he, "if I did what I ought to do, I should have you arrested at once for fraud; but I don't see that that would do me any good."

"Harry," said Eversleigh, haltingly, "I was your father's friend, and I was never unkind to you."

"Never unkind to me! What have you done with my money?"

"I never had a penny of it."

"Oh, you put the blame on Silwood! He is dead, and cannot deny the charge."

"I never had anything to do with selling your property, Harry. I did not know it had been sold until a day or two ago—until yesterday, in fact."

"But you did know when you wrote me. You lied about it."

"I did," acknowledged Eversleigh. "I could not help it. Consider how I was situated!"

"You were to get me the ten thousand pounds, and to pretend to sell the Mansions?"

"That was it."

"You can get me the ten thousand?"

"No; that was a pretence too. I cannot get you the money."

"Worse and worse!" exclaimed Bennet. "What has been done with the money?"

"Mr. Silwood might have told you, I cannot. I had none of it, I again assure you," protested Eversleigh.

Bennet now sat down.

"Let us understand each other," he said. "So far as I make the matter out, the position is this: you state Mr. Silwood disposed of my property and appropriated the proceeds—is that it?"

Eversleigh bowed.

"What do you intend doing?"

"Nothing. What can I do?"

Bennet sat very still, thinking what was the best course for him to take.

"Do you suppose," he asked at length, "that Mr. Silwood was guilty of other—irregularities?"

"How can I tell? For many years Mr. Silwood attended to all the financial business of the firm, and I never concerned myself with it at all. And now I can only find out very slowly and gradually how matters stand."

"Have you no capital? No means of your own?"

"No. I have always lived up to my income—you know how I have lived, Harry, for you have often shared my hospitality," said Eversleigh, appealingly.

"Oh, your hospitality be ——!" cried Bennet, rudely. "How does that help either you or me now? If anything, it makes matters worse. What I ought to do is just what I said. I should go to another solicitor, tell him how the case stands, and in a short time you would be in prison. But what good will that be to me? I must think everything over very carefully. I shall not be precipitate."

Eversleigh held up his head a little.

"Thank you, Harry," he said.

"I'm not thinking of you," rejoined Harry, brutally. "One word, however. How many people know about my property being disposed of—in this irregular manner by Silwood?" asked Bennet, sarcastically.

"No one but myself."

"Can I depend on that statement?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, I shall take no action to-day. I am going home now, and to-night I'll make up my mind. I shall see you again to-morrow, and tell you what is my intention."

And Bennet strode out of the room. As he descended the stairs he almost cannoned against Gilbert Eversleigh, who was going up to see his father. Bennet hardly returned the salute Gilbert gave him, but the sight of his successful rival had given him an idea.