I'll do the same.

A stranger, you say?
Well, this is a proof that somebody knows the secret of that scrap of paper besides us, doctor!" "They don't know the exact spot," growled Bryce, who was chafing at having been done out of his discovery.

"But, they'll find it, whatever may be there." He led Harker back to Paradise and to the place where he had left Dick Bewery, whom they approached so quietly that Bryce was by the lad's side before Dick knew he was there.

And Harker, after one glance at the ring of faces, drew Bryce back and put his lips close to his ear and breathed a name in an almost imperceptible yet clear whisper.
"Glassdale!" Bryce started for the third time.

Glassdale!--the man whom Harker had seen in Wrychester within an hour or so of Braden's death: the ex-convict, the forger, who had forged the Duke of Saxonsteade's name! And there! standing, apparently quite at his ease, by the Duke's side.
What did it all mean?
There was no explanation of what it meant to be had from the man whom Bryce and Harker and Dick Bewery secretly watched from behind the screen of cypress trees.