"I forgive you freely," replied the young man, grasping the hand held out by Mr Tempest. "Appearances were against me, so it was little wonder that you did not entirely trust me. Still, Mr Tempest, you should have known me better than to think me guilty of such a crime."

"I know – I know I have been wrong."

"Well, let us drop the subject. My character is now clear, and I have no wish to recall a very disagreeable past."

This conversation took place in the study of Mr Tempest, and in the presence of Sybil and Marton. The detective had shown the vicar the insolent but welcome letter he had received from Pratt. The confession therein entirely exonerated Leo, and he could again hold up his head. He and Mr Tempest were quite reconciled. Sybil, with her hand in Leo's, looked thoroughly happy.

"I never lost faith in you, Leo!" she said. "Sooner or later I knew that all would be well."

"I have to thank Marton for the clearing of my character, Sybil."

"Faith, you are wrong there!" said Marton, smiling. "I thought you were innocent; but as I had not looked into the case, I saw no means of proving it. Had not Pratt sent this confession I should still be in the dark. He is a scoundrel, but he is a good friend to you, Haverleigh!"

"I don't agree with you," said Tempest, sharply, for he was still sore on the subject of the cup. "Pratt knew that Leo was suspected, and he should have come forward long ere this to put the matter right."

"You ask too much from a man of Pratt's nature," said Marton, dryly. "It is wonderful that he should have confessed his guilt even at the eleventh hour. However, this closes the case, and I can go back to London. We know now who stole the cup, and we know also that it cannot be recovered. Pratt will stick to it this time. It was only his vanity and desire for popularity that made him give it away in the first instance."

"If it came back to me I should never accept it," said the vicar, emphatically. "A stolen cup should never have been put to sacred uses. I wonder at the daring of the man!"

"Oh! a man like Pratt is capable of anything," said Marton, with a shrug. "But you will never see him again, Mr Tempest. And now, Mr Haverleigh, I think you should see Sir Frank Hale and make him confess that he lent you the money."

"There will be no difficulty about that," replied Leo. "Hale told only two people that he repudiated all knowledge of the loan. One was my aunt, the other myself. He is too cunning to tell the world the untruth he told us. Besides, my character being cleared, he can have no further hold over me. I fear he will be angry."

"I am certain he will. Let us see him together."

Leo was quite willing to do this, so after taking a fond leave of Sybil, and a cordial one of her father, he set out with the detective to bring Sir Frank Hale to his bearings. On the way Marton asked Leo's permission to touch upon a delicate subject. Haverleigh told him to speak freely. "I owe you too much to take offence at anything you may say," he observed. "You have been my very good friend, Marton."

"Oh, that's all right," replied the detective, brightly; "and I really do not deserve your thanks. Any help I have given you has been purely accidental. If Pratt had held his tongue, you would still have been in the same position as before. But I am bound to say, Haverleigh, that even before the arrival of this letter Mr Tempest expressed his belief in your innocence."

"I am glad of that," said Leo. "He treated me badly, and it is a pleasure to me to hear that his own good sense told him I was innocent before he had the actual proof. I am anxious to stand well with him, Marton."

"Ah! That is the matter I wish to discuss. I see that you and Miss Tempest are much attached to one another. Do you think the vicar will consent to the marriage?"

"I really can't say. Even before this scandal he seemed to be displeased with me, and kept me away from his house as much as possible. He did not want to see me, and he would not let me see Sybil. We had to meet by stealth. Now he may have changed his mind."

"And if he has? What, then?"

"Then I can announce my engagement to Sybil," said Leo. "But, you see, I am not in a position to marry, and may not be for a long time. I have to make my way in the world, and to make money also. I thought of enlisting for this war, and of fighting my way through the ranks to a commission."

"Even then I do not see how you could marry. You might gain a commission, but not money. Until your worldly prospects are more secure, I do not think you should engage yourself to Miss Tempest."

"That is straight speaking, Marton."

"You gave me permission to speak out. I like you, Haverleigh, and after the trouble you have come through I think you should be rewarded by getting your heart's desire. But if you love Miss Temple, you will not marry her until you can give her a comfortable home. Even if you are successful in South Africa, a baggage waggon is not the place for a delicate girl. You can offer her nothing better than that."

"True enough. I admit that what you say is correct. But what am I to do?"

"Well," said the detective, after a pause, "it seems to me that you have some claim upon your aunt. She took charge of you and brought you up. I understand she intimated that you would be her heir, and you received an education to fit you for the position. If she intended to send you adrift as she has done, she should at least have had you taught some profession or trade whereby you could earn your bread and butter. Yes; I think you have a right to demand some assistance from her."

Leo shook his head and flushed. "I can't bring myself to do that," he said in a low voice. "She has insulted me so deeply that it goes against my nature to eat humble pie. I would rather make my own way in the world. As to Sybil, I shall not ask her to engage herself to me until – as you say – I can offer her a home."

"You can do nothing but enlist, I suppose?"

"No. Soldiering is all I am fit for. Now that my name has been cleared I will bid farewell to Sybil and enlist straight away. She will wait for me, I am certain. I get my commission I can perhaps see my way to make her my wife. If I am shot – well," Leo shrugged his shoulders, "there is an end to all things."

"Haverleigh!" said Marton, after a pause. "Will you tell me what reason your aunt has for disliking you so much?"

"I don't know. She has always been stern and hard with me. Lately she has openly hated me. That is why I left her."

"There is something connected with you that is wrong?"

"Not to my knowledge. I have been foolish, but not wilfully wicked."

"I know that. But Mrs Gabriel knows something – it may be about your parents – that has prejudiced the vicar against you. It was her influence that made him turn against you. He admitted as much to me. But he refused to say what she had told him."

"I guessed all this," said Leo, quietly; "but what can I do?"

"Insist upon knowing what has been said. You have a right to. If the vicar will not speak out – and he has given his word not to – Mrs Gabriel may be forced to do so. Were I you, Haverleigh, I should see her and insist upon an explanation."

"She won't give it."

"I should force it out of her," said Marton, determinedly. "Oh! I know she is a hard woman, but if you persevere she must give way."

Leo thought for a few moments. "Well, Marton," he said at length, "I will see the vicar first and speak to him on the subject of Sybil. From what he says I may see the reason of his attitude towards me. Then I can call upon Mrs Gabriel. You may be sure I shall do my best."

Marton nodded, but said no more for the present, as by this time they were at the door of Hale's house. A demure servant opened the door and took in their names. Shortly she ushered them into a room where Sir Frank was seated in a chair by the window reading to his sister. Edith Hale looked pale and ill. She lay on a sofa, but started up and blushed rosy red when she saw Leo. There was no doubt that the poor girl was deeply in love with the young man. Leo, in the kindness of his heart, felt a pang. It seemed to him that he was treating her cruelly, although the position was none of his making.

"Good-day!" said Hale, without rising, and including Leo and Marton in one swift glance. "I am surprised to see you, Haverleigh. I thought you did not care about keeping up my acquaintance."

Leo would have replied sharply, but as Edith was present he cast a meaning glance in her direction. "I should like to speak with you alone," he said, "that is, in the presence of Mr Marton."

Before Hale could reply Marton interposed. "Wait a bit," he said in his smooth voice, and with a glance at the girl. "There is something to be said first in the presence of Miss Hale."

"In my presence!" she exclaimed turning red, while her brother scowled.

"Yes. Something you will be pleased to hear. You both know that Mr Haverleigh has been accused of stealing this chapel cup."

"I never believed it, never!" cried Edith, eagerly, and Leo gave her a look of gratitude, which made her turn pale with emotion.

"And you, Sir Frank?"

Hale shrugged his shoulders. "I never thought much about the subject," he said, the lie coming at once to his practised lips. "The evidence was against Haverleigh, I admit; but I tried to think the best of him."

"Your speech is rather contradictory, Sir Frank," was the dry response of Marton. "But I think you must have thought well of Haverleigh or you would not have helped him out of his difficulty by lending him money."

"Oh, Frank, did you do that?" cried Edith, taking her brother's hand. "I love you for it. How good you are!"

Hale's face grew blacker and blacker. Had he been alone he would have lied, but in the presence of the sister he loved so deeply he could not bring himself to deny the truth. Moreover, he had a kind of instinctive feeling that Marton had come to proclaim the innocence of Leo, else why should he come at all? His plot of getting Leo into his power had failed – he was clever enough to see that – so it only remained for him to retreat with as much dignity as possible.

"I was only too glad to help Haverleigh," he said quietly, and with marked courtesy. "He was in debt, and the three hundred pounds I gave him was of some use, I believe. I beg that he will say no more on the subject."

"How good you are – how good you are!" gasped Edith, caressing her brother. Leo and Marton glanced at one another. Hale's masterly retreat took them both by surprise. When Leo remembered the conversation in the chapel he could hardly believe his ears. The only thing to be done was to beat the man with his own weapons.

"I will say no more, Hale, save that when I am able the money shall be repaid. I thank you heartily for your kindness."

Sir Frank bit his lip, but summoned up sufficient dignity to be gracious. He and Leo were both wearing masks for the benefit of Edith. "Pay the money when you like," he said, sitting up. "I am shortly going abroad with my sister, and I do not think we shall see one another for a long time. However, my solicitor at Portfront will attend to the matter of the loan."

"Then there really was a loan," said Marton, determined to get the plain truth out of Hale in the presence of witnesses.

"Certainly. I gave Leo three hundred pounds in gold. I have already said so."

"And it was with that loan he paid his debts?" pursued Marion.

"Yes," said Leo, seeing his drift, "I paid them with that money. But the good people here declared that I sold the cup to pay them!"

"How could they! How could they!" muttered Edith.

"Because they are fools," cried Sir Frank, seeing that he was completely beaten. "For my part, I never believed that Haverleigh did such a thing!"

"Thank you," said Leo, inwardly smiling at the lie.

"Then you will be delighted to hear that the thief has been found."

As Marton spoke Hale suddenly turned pale, and rose with an effort. "The thief has been – found!" he stammered.

"Yes," replied Marton, with a swift glance, thinking at once of his theory of a conspiracy. "It seems that this man Angel – I beg your pardon, you know him as Pratt – stole the cup."

"But it was Mr Pratt who gave it!" cried Edith.

"Quite so, Miss Hale. Afterwards he was sorry that his generosity had led him to make so great a sacrifice. Therefore he stole what he had bestowed."

"And what about this story of Mrs Jeal?" asked Hale, trying to be amiable.

"Oh! that was part of the business, Sir Frank. Pratt thought the cup would be seen here, even if he kept it in his house. So he sent it up to London to be pawned for safe keeping. You do not understand why this should be done. But then you have never come into contact with a man like Pratt. However, for reasons I need not explain, he pawned the cup. His servant Adam is rather like Mr Haverleigh, and it was thus that Mrs Jeal, not having a clear view, made a mistake. You understand, Sir Frank?"

"Quite," replied Hale in a strangled voice. He was pale and anxious-looking. Leo thought that this was anger at his escape. But Marton took another and a more serious view.

"I am sure you are pleased that Haverleigh's character has been cleared."

"I am pleased – very – very pleased," said Edith, joyfully, "and so is Frank. Are you not, Frank?"

"Yes! very pleased." Hale forced himself to say so much; then he walked to the door. "I am not well," he said, turning for a moment; "you will excuse me, gentlemen. My sister will see you out. If you – " He paused, and darting a look of hatred at Leo, left the room. Haverleigh was more surprised than Marton, who had captured a fresh idea, and was already building up a theory.

Leo remained only a short time. He was most embarrassed by the looks of Edith, and escaped as speedily as courtesy permitted. When they left the house and were some distance on the road, Marton spoke. "I think there is insanity in that family," he said.

"Why do you think so?"

"The girl is queer. No woman in her sane senses would give herself away as she does. The brother is a cripple, and queer too. Never you marry into that lot, Haverleigh! They have some hereditary taint."

"I have no intention of marrying anyone but Sybil," said Leo, dryly; "but did you see how Hale backed out of his false position?"

"Yes; and I believe he has more to do with this matter than you think. I should not be at all surprised to find that he and Mrs Gabriel for some reason had been working together against you. Oh! there has been – there may be yet some conspiracy against you."

"I can understand Hale conspiring," said Leo; "he wants to marry Sybil, and wishes Edith to become my wife. But Mrs Gabriel, why should she?"

"We have yet to find that out," interrupted Marton. "Go and see what the vicar says. I must be alone for a time. I want to think the matter out. At all events, Hale has acknowledged that he lent you the money, in the presence of witnesses. You are all right in that quarter. I daresay he'll make another attempt to best you, though."

"Nonsense. Did you not hear him say that he was going abroad with his sister? I think he will leave me alone now."

"Perhaps," replied Marton, thoughtfully. "We'll see. I'll believe he is going abroad when he is across the Channel. I'm off for a long walk," and the detective set off at a brisk pace.

Leo thought no more about this especial matter, leaving it entirely to Marton. Forthwith he returned to the Vicarage, saw Mr Tempest, and then and there asked him if he objected to him as a suitor for Sybil. At this very direct question Mr Tempest wriggled and looked uncomfortable.

"You put a very painful question to me, Leo," he said, after a pause. "I am ashamed of myself for having thought so ill of you, and I should like to make amends, if possible. I know that you are attached to Sybil, but now that you are at variance with your aunt, I do not see that you are justified in asking me to consent to this engagement."

"I know what you mean," said Leo, proudly, "and I do not intend to engage myself until I am in a better position. All I ask is that you will not force Sybil to marry Hale when I am away."

"I should not let her marry Hale in any case!" cried the vicar, angrily. "I would never give my child to a cripple. Moreover, the Hales are not so sane as they might be. And, Leo, I shall not force Sybil's inclinations in any way. She can remain unmarried all her life if she pleases."

"That is all I want," said Leo, gladly. "I am going to enlist, Mr Tempest, and if I get a commission there may be some chance of my asking Sybil to be my wife. She will be true to me while I am away; I know she will."

"Humph!" said the vicar, doubtfully. "A commission, eh?"

Leo interpreted his objection. "Then you have something against me personally," he said, "and for this reason you do not want me to think of Sybil in any way. What is the matter, Mr Tempest?"

"I can't tell you, Leo." The vicar looked directly at him. "So far as you are concerned, I do not wish for a better husband for my daughter, but Mrs Gabriel has informed me of something which makes me unwilling to countenance the marriage. Don't ask me what it is. I cannot tell you."

"I do not ask you to tell me, Mr Tempest. This very night I shall ask Mrs Gabriel herself what she has been saying."

"Better not," advised the vicar. "It will only cause you much distress."

Leo looked at him in astonishment. What could his aunt have been saying about him or his parents likely to make the vicar take so strong a view of the matter? "If there is anything wrong I have a right to know," he said at length. "I shall insist upon an explanation, Mr Tempest. If I discover any valid reason why I should give Sybil up, I am quite ready to yield. When you next see me, Mr Tempest, I shall either have given up the idea of marrying your daughter, or I shall insist upon marrying her in spite of you and Mrs Gabriel! You cannot say that I am treating you unfairly. I go now."

"But, my dear boy – " called out Mr Tempest, much distressed. He spoke to the empty air. Leo had already left the room and was out of the gate.

After leaving The Nun's House, Leo had taken up his residence at the Colester Arms. Marton was there also, and Leo expected to see him at dinner. He was anxious to tell him what the vicar had said. But the detective did not return from his walk, and after waiting for him till close upon nine o'clock, Leo left the hotel and walked towards the castle to have it out with Mrs Gabriel.

The night was moonless, but there were many stars. Here and there a swathe of mist lay on the plains below; but up on the hills all was comparatively clear. Leo, who knew every inch of Colester, walked slowly out of the town gate and crossed to the other hill. He took a narrow private path which he knew of, wishing to get unobserved to the castle. Just at the foot of this path he met Marton. The recognition was mutual.

"You are going to see Mrs Gabriel?" said the detective.

"Yes. Where have you been, Marton?"

"I have been trying to see her, but she is ill – at least so the butler says. I suspect, however, this is a lie. She doesn't want to see me!"

"Shall I – "

"Yes, you go up. I must return to the hotel and get some dinner. I have been walking and thinking until I am worn out. I'll wait your return, and we can talk over the matter."

"What matter?"

"The conspiracy of Mrs Gabriel and Hale," said Marton, promptly. "Get on with you, Haverleigh. I'm off to dinner." And he went away at a quick pace, leaving Leo much astonished.

However, there was no use in standing and wondering, so he pursued his way. As Mrs Gabriel was said to be ill, and had denied herself to Marton, it was not unlikely that he would be treated in the same way. Therefore, instead of going to the front door, Leo went round the castle on to the terrace. This was shut off from the rest of the ground by a high fence with a gate in it. Leo had retained the key of this gate and had no difficulty in getting in. The room which looked on to the terrace was lighted, but the blinds were down. Leo peered in. He saw Mrs Gabriel seated in a chair. Standing near her was Mr Richard Pratt.