at
once--this minute!--and come down with me and Mrs. Greyle to that yacht
and stop all these proceedings. In our presence you must lay claim to
everything that's been taken from the house--yes, and to the yacht
itself. Come, let's hurry!"

Audrey hesitated and looked at Mrs. Greyle.

"Very well," she said quietly. "But--not my mother."

"No need!" said Vickers. "You will have us with you."

Audrey hurried from the room, and Mrs. Greyle turned anxiously to
Vickers.

"What shall you do?" she asked.

"Warn all concerned," answered Vickers, with a snap of the jaw which
showed Copplestone that he was a man of determination. "Warn them, if
necessary, that the man they have known as Marston Greyle is an impostor,
and that everything they are handling belongs to Miss Greyle. The
Scarhaven people know me, of course--there ought not to be any great
difficulty with them--and as regards the yacht people--"

"You know," interrupted Mrs. Greyle, "that this man--the impostor--has
made himself very popular with the people here? You saw how they cheered
him after the inquest? You don't think there is danger in Audrey going
down there?"

"Wouldn't it be enough if you and I went?" suggested Copplestone. "It's
very late to drag Miss Greyle out."

"I'm sorry, but it's absolutely necessary," said Vickers. "If your
story is true--I mean, of course, since it is true--Miss Greyle is
owner and mistress, and she must be on the spot. It's all we can do,
anyway," he continued, as Audrey, wrapped in a big ulster, came back to
the parlour. "Even now we may be too late. And if that yacht once sails
away from here--"

There were signs that the yacht's departure was imminent when they went
down to the south quay and came abreast of her. The lights on the shore
were being extinguished; the estate labourers were gone; only two or
three sailors were busy with ropes and gear. And Vickers hurried his
little party up a gangway and on to the deck. A hard-faced, keen-eyed,
man, evidently in authority, came forward.

"Are you the captain of this vessel?" demanded Vickers in tones of
authority. "You are? I am Mr. Vickers, solicitor, of Norcaster. I give
you formal warning that the man you have known as Marston Greyle is
not Marston Greyle at all, but an impostor. All the property which you
have removed from the house, and now have on this vessel, belongs to
this lady, Miss Audrey Greyle, Lady of the Manor of Scarhaven. It is
at your peril that yo