Both the man and the woman eyed one another firmly. Then Franklin motioned Mrs. Benker to a seat on a mossy bank.

"We can talk better sitting," said he. "I should like an explanation of this. You say that my name is Wilson, and that I boarded with you."

"At Lambeth. I'll take my oath to it."

"Had your boarder red hair and a red beard?"

"Red as a tomato. But you can buy wigs and false beards. Eyes, as I say, you cannot change."

"Had this Wilson eyes like mine?" asked Frankly eagerly.

"There ain't a sc.r.a.p of difference, Mr. Wilson. Your eyes are the same now as they were then."

"One moment. Had this man you think me to be two teeth missing in his lower jaw--two front teeth?"

"He had. Not that his teeth were of the best."

Franklin drew down his lip.

"You will see that I have all my teeth."

"H'm!" Mrs. Benker sniffed. "False teeth can be bought."

"I fear you would find these teeth only too genuine," said the man quietly. "But I quite understand your mistake."

"My mistake?" Mrs. Benker shook her head vehemently. "I'm not the one to make mistakes."

"On this occasion you have done so; but the mistake is pardonable.

Mrs.--Mrs.--what is your name?"

"Mrs. Benker, sir. And you know it."

"Excuse me, I do not know it. The man who was your lodger, and whom you accuse me of being, is my brother."

"Your brother!" echoed the landlady, amazed.

"Yes, and a bad lot he is. Never did a hand's turn in all his life. I daresay while he was with you he kept the most irregular hours?"

"He did--most irregular."

"Out all night at times, and in all day? And again, out all day and in for the night?"

"You describe him exactly." Mrs. Benker peered into the clean-shaven face in a puzzled manner. "Your hair is black, your voice is changed, and only the eyes remain."

"My brother and I have eyes exactly the same. I guessed your mistake when you spoke. I a.s.sure you I am not my brother."

"Well, sir," said the woman, beginning to think she had made a mistake after all, "I will say your voice is not like his. It was low and soft, while yours, if you'll excuse me mentioning it, is hard, and not at all what I'd call a love-voice."

Grim as Franklin was, he could not help laughing at this last remark.

"I quite understand. You only confirm what I say. My brother has a beautiful voice, Mrs. Benker; and much harm he has done with it amongst your s.e.x."

"He never harmed me," said Mrs. Benker, bridling. "I am a respectable woman and a widow with one son. But your brother----"

"He's a blackguard," interrupted Franklin; "hand and glove with the very worst people in London. You may be thankful he did not cut your throat or steal your furniture."

"Lord!" cried Mrs. Benker, astounded, "was he that dangerous?"

"He is so dangerous that he ought to be shut up. And if I could lay hands on him I'd get the police to shut him up. He's done no end of mischief. Now I daresay he had a red cross dangling from his watch-chain."

"Yes, he had. What does it mean?"

"I can't tell you; but I'd give a good deal to know. He has hinted to me that it is the sign of some criminal fraternity with which he is a.s.sociated. I never could learn what the object of the cross is. He always kept quiet on that subject. But I have not seen him for years, and then only when I was on a flying visit from Italy."

"Have you been to Italy, sir?"

"I live there," said Franklin, "at Florence. I have lived there for over ten years, with an occasional visit to London. If you still think that I am my brother, I can bring witnesses to prove----"

"Lord, sir, I don't want to prove nothing. Now I look at you and hear your voice I do say as I made a mistake as I humbly beg your pardon for.

But you are so like Mr. Wilson----"

"I know, and I forgive you. But why do you wish to find my brother? He has been up to some rascality, I suppose?"

"He has, though what it is I know no more than a babe. But they do say,"

added Mrs. Benker, sinking her voice, "as the police want him."

"I'm not at all astonished. He has placed himself within the reach of the law a hundred times. If the police come to me, I'll tell them what I have told you. No one would be more pleased than I to see Walter laid by the heels."

"Is his name Walter?"

"Yes, Walter Franklin, although he chooses to call himself Wilson. My name is George. He is a blackguard."

"Oh, sir, your flesh and blood."

"He's no brother of mine," said Franklin, rising, with a snarl. "I hate the man. He had traded on his resemblance to me to get money and do all manner of scoundrelly actions. That was why I went to Italy. It seems that I did wisely, for if I could not prove that I have been abroad these ten years, you would swear that I was Walter."

"Oh, no, sir--really." Mrs. Benker rose also.

"Nonsense. You swore that I was Walter when we first met. Take a good look at me now, so that you may be sure that I am not he. I don't want to have his rascalities placed on my shoulders."

Mrs. Benker took a good look and sighed. "You're not him, but you're very like. May I ask if you are twins, sir?"

"No. Our eyes are the only things that we have in common. We got those from our mother, who was an Italian. I take after my mother, and am black, as you see me. My brother favored my father, who was as red as an autumn sunset."

"He was indeed red," sighed Mrs. Benker, wrapping her shawl round her; "and now, sir, I hope you'll humbly forgive me for----"

"That's all right, Mrs. Benker. I only explained myself at length because I am so sick of having my brother's sins imputed on me. I hope he paid your rent."

"Oh, yes, sir, he did that regularly."