Thirlby--"after the dreadful
catastrophe I have related, I remained concealed in London for some
months, and was glad to find the report of my death generally believed.
I then passed over into Holland, where I resided for several years, in
the course of which time I married the widow of a rich merchant, who
died soon after our union, leaving me one child." And he covered his
face with his hands to hide his emotion. After awhile he proceeded:

"Having passed many years, as peacefully as one whose conscience was so
heavily burdened as mine could hope to pass them, in Amsterdam, I last
summer brought my daughter, around whom my affections were closely
twined, to London, and took up my abode in the eastern environs of the
city. There again I was happy--too happy!--until at last the plague
came. But why should I relate the rest of my sad story?" he added, in a
voice suffocated with emotion--"you know it as well as I do."

"You said you had a son," observed Leonard, after a pause--"Is he yet
living?"

"He is," replied Thirlby, a shade passing over his countenance. "On my
return to England I communicated to him through Judith Malmayns, who is
my foster-sister, that I was still alive, telling him the name I had
adopted, and adding, I should never disturb him in the possession of his
title and estates."

"Title!" exclaimed Leonard.

"Ay, title!" echoed Thirlby. "The title I once bore was that of Lord
Argentine."

"I am glad to hear it," said Leonard, "for I began to fear Sir Paul
Parravicin was your son."

"Sir Paul Parravicin, or, rather, the Lord Argentine, for such is his
rightful title, _is_ my son," returned Thirlby; "and I lament to own I
am his father. When among his worthless associates,--nay, even with the
king--he drops the higher title, and assumes that by which you have
known him; and it is well he does so, for his actions are sufficient to
tarnish a far nobler name than that he bears. Owing to this disguise I
knew not he was the person who carried off my daughter. But, thank
Heaven, another and fouler crime has been spared us. All these things
have been strangely explained to me to-night. And thus, you see, young
man, the poor piper's daughter turns out to be the Lady Isabella
Argentine." Before an answer could be returned, the door was opened by
Hodges, and both starting to their feet, hurried towards him.

IV.

THE TRIALS OF AMABEL.

It will now be necessary to return to the period of Amabel's abdu