ing by pushing the tapestry behind the
antlers, retreated, and occupied himself with an examination of these
long branches that like a personal weapon had divided the thick
underbrush of his way before him. It was not until most of the party
were in the hall, not until the Colonel had come in with Madam
Pepperell, that he suddenly went forward and drew down the cut tapestry,
and at the moment put himself into the same attitude with the man in the
picture, and in this attitude stood with his eyes glancing keenly from
one to another of the spectators.

There was a murmur, not rising to articulateness, which seemed to be
surprise at the sight of the portrait so unexpectedly disclosed. Then
followed a breathless hush. It was in the hush that Edmonson's eyes were
busiest. But that, too, was short. For, a cry of astonishment rose from
nearly every one in the hall. This, though coming from many throats, had
but one import.

"What a likeness! Perfect! Wonderful! How came it there? How came
_he_ here? What does it mean?"

From Edmonson, standing motionless, the assembly looked toward Stephen,
and from him, plainly as much at a loss as themselves, they turned their
eyes where his were already fixed, upon the face of his father. But the
Colonel, pale and amazed, with a dark shadow fallen upon his face from
the door near by him--or perhaps from some door opening in his own
breast--seemed no more able than the others to read the riddle. Indeed,
he was the first to ask the explanation that all were seeking.

"When and how did you bring that picture here?" he said. "And whose
portrait is it?" For he had rejected the first suggestion of its being
Edmonson himself. The dress belonged to an earlier period, and the face
was that of a man somewhat older; it could not be thought of as the
portrait of the young man standing beside it; it was simply a marvellous
likeness.

"I found it here," returned Edmonson with a bow. "I have seen the copy
of it many times, this is the original painting by Lely. It came here--I
mean to the Colonies--by one of those mistakes that one member of a
family sometimes, perpetrates upon the others. How it ever got behind
this hanging it is out of my province to tell. I yield the field to
Colonel Archdale."

"I know nothing of it," said that gentleman. "The house was built when I
was a child. It was one of the preparations for my father's second
marriage. The tapestry is an heirloom; it is so old that I am a