Pratt sat alone in his library.  He was not reading, for although he had many books he rarely looked into one of them.  He collected rare editions, he indulged in gorgeous bindings, and placed all his gatherings on shelves behind glass doors.  It was the look of the thing Pratt liked.  If his collection had been so many volumes of blank pages he would have been just as well pleased.

As the evening was cold there was a fire in the steel grate.  The room looked comfortable and luxurious.  It was decorated in dark red, with bookcases of rosewood, and many busts of celebrated men.  On the desk stood a reading lamp, and this was the only light in the room.  Before the desk sat Pratt.  He was playing with a small pile of precious stones which he had shaken out of a leathern belt.  The jewels gleamed in the light with rainbow hues, and Pratt fingered them with loving care, recalling where each one had been bought and found.  He was crazy about his gems, but never showed them to anyone.  Moreover, in addition to his liking for such things, it was a portable way of carrying about his wealth.

The door opened softly and a servant entered.  Pratt did not turn his head, for he knew the footstep.  But when he heard that Leo wished to see him, he poured the jewels back into the belt, flung it into a drawer and told Adam - that was the man’s name - to admit Mr Haverleigh.  Adam was a tall, soldierly looking man, of the fair Saxon type.  He had been with Mr Pratt for years, knew all his secrets and was absolutely devoted to him.  As well he might be, for Pratt had once saved his life.  Adam never forgot the obligation, and was Pratt’s devoted slave.

“Hullo, Leo!” said Pratt, rising, when the young man entered the room.  “Where did you come from?”

“From London, if you want to be precise,” said Leo, after shaking hands.  “My bag is in the hall, Pratt.”

“What?  Have you not been to the castle?”

“I have been there, and I have come away.  In fact, Pratt, she has turned me out at last.  I always knew that it would come to this.”

As Leo sat down Pratt frowned, and when he frowned he did not look pleased.  “Ah!” said he, calmly, “so she has turned you out - on account of this theft, I suppose?”

“Yes.  It is the first I ever heard of it!” said Leo, looking up.  “Your wire said nothing about such an accusation.  I don’t suppose you could very well have mentioned it in a telegram.  However, Mrs Gabriel insisted that I had stolen the cup and sold it in London in order to pay my debts.  We had a few words on the subject and parted.  I am now here to ask you for a bed!”

“My dear fellow, you shall stay here as long as you please.  Let me ring for Adam to bring you some supper!” and Pratt touched the bell.

“A few sandwiches and a glass of port will be sufficient,” said Leo.  “I am not in the humour to eat.  By the way,” as Adam entered, “I see he has got back?”

“Who?  Adam?  Yes.  Where did you meet him?”

“At Portfront,” said Leo, with a nod to Adam, who smiled.  “He told me he had been up to London on your business.  I gave him a lift part of the way.  Didn’t I, Adam?”

“I shouldn’t have got home otherwise, sir,” said Adam, respectfully, and departed to get food for his benefactor.  Pratt seemed pleased that his servant was so friendly with Leo.  He had a great opinion of Adam’s intelligence.  Also, Adam was a power in the house - but Leo did not know that.  Later on, he learned all about it, to his great astonishment.

“Come now,” said Pratt, when Leo had eaten and had finished a glass or two of port.  “Tell me about this cup. Did you take it?”

“I certainly did not!” said Leo, stiffly.  “I wonder at your asking me such a question, Pratt!  I am not a thief!”

His host laughed somewhat nervously.  “I only wanted to be sure, my dear lad,” he said.  “Don’t get angry with your best and only friend.”

“I have another friend,” said Leo, looking up from the cigar he was cutting, “and that is Sybil.  She does not believe that I am guilty.”

“Have you seen her, then?”

“No.  But I do not want to see her in order to know that.  She loves me, Mr Pratt, and would never believe me guilty.  No; not though the evidence was twice as strong against me!”

“The evidence is strong,” said Pratt, rubbing his chin.  “You were seen at the chapel, and - ”

“And I have paid my debts,” finished Leo.  “So I have, and I can explain how I paid them; also my movements on that night.”  And he forthwith related to Pratt the story he had already told Mrs Gabriel.  The man believed him much more readily than the woman.  But then Pratt liked Leo, and Mrs Gabriel - as she had shown plainly - hated him with all the intensity of her stern and cruel nature.

“You say that Hale lent you the money?” asked Pratt.

“As I told you - in gold.”

“And he now denies that he did so?”

“So Mrs Gabriel says.  But I shall see for myself to-morrow.”

Pratt reflected, staring into the fire.  “It seems to be a conspiracy,” he said slowly.  “I wonder what his game is?”

Leo remembered that Sybil had also been uncomfortable when she heard that Hale intended to lend him the money.  A thought flashed into his mind as Pratt spoke.  “I believe that Hale is in love with Sibyl,” said he.

“Humph!  And his sister Edith is in love with you.”

Leo coloured a little at this very direct remark.  “I believe she is,” said he, with an embarrassed laugh; “but I assure you, Pratt, the feeling is not reciprocal.  The only woman I have ever loved, whom I shall ever love, is Sybil Tempest.  And the course of our true love does not run smooth,” he finished, with a sigh.

“A conspiracy,” repeated Pratt, who was not paying much attention to what Leo was saying.  “Yes!  I believe it to be one.  By lending you that money Hale hoped to get you into his power, so as to induce you to give up Sibyl to him and marry Edith.”

“If he ever did have so ridiculous an idea,” said Leo, angrily, “he has thrown away the fruits of it by denying the loan.”

“No!  The unforseen has happened and he is simply making use of the new development,” said Pratt.  “You are accused of having sold this cup to pay your debts.  If Hale acknowledged that he gave you the money he would take away the motive and would in a measure prove your innocence.  That is exactly what he will not do.  Unless - ” he hesitated.

“Unless I give up Sybil and marry his sister?”

“Precisely,” replied Pratt.  “However, this is only a theory.  You had better wait until you see Hale before you make up your mind.  I don’t mind making you a bet, Leo, that what Mrs Gabriel says is true.”

“Do you think Hale will deny the loan?”

“I am certain of it.  I have studied human nature a great deal during a not uneventful life, and if ever I saw a crafty scoundrel Hale is the man.  I wish you had told me that he was the friend who was to lend you the money.  I would rather have found it for you myself than have let you go to him.”

“I wish I had spoken out.  But it’s too late now.  And how did I know the man would be such a scoundrel?  Not that we yet can be certain that he is, Pratt.  Only the worst of it is,” added Leo, wrinkling his young brows, “that I cannot now repay the money.”

“If he denies the debt you will not need to repay it.”

“I shall insist upon doing so when I am able!” cried Leo, vehemently.  “But Mrs Gabriel won’t help me.”

“I will let you have the three hundred pounds,” said Pratt.

“I don’t see why you should, Pratt.  As it is, you are too kind to me.  No!  I will borrow no more.  This interview with Mrs Gabriel has fixed my mind as to enlisting.  I shall see if I can’t arrange about the money for Hale.  I have some jewellery and other things I can sell.  In some way or another I’ll contrive to get out of his debt.”

“He won’t admit that you are in his debt,” persisted Pratt; “but it is no use talking all night about these things, Leo.  You have a friend in me, and as I know you are innocent I’ll get you out of this trouble somehow.  To-morrow you can see Hale and Miss Sybil.”

“I’ll see him first,” said Leo, grimly, after which speech - ominous of evil - he retired to bed.  Worn out with his long journey and by the anxiety attendant on his new position - which was that of an absolute pauper - he soon fell into a dreamless sleep.  Pratt remained in the library and for a long time sat watching the dying fire.  He also saw trouble ahead, but it had to do more with himself than with his guest.

Since the illness of Pearl, Sybil had attended to the decorating of the altar.  Sometimes she had the assistance of Peggy Bathurst.  But Mrs Bathurst, still fearful lest Peggy might become engaged to the curate, would not let her come as often to the chapel as Sybil wished.  So Miss Tempest usually decked the altar alone.  The morning after Leo’s arrival she was in the chapel at mid-day with her arms full of flowers.  Taking these and the altar vessels into a quiet corner she began to arrange the blossoms.  While thus engaged she heard a step.  At once she sprang to her feet with the love-light in her eye.  She had no need to see the newcomer.  Her heart told her it was Leo.

“My dear!” She took him into her arms.  “How glad I am to see you again!  Oh, Leo, I have so many sad things to tell you.”

“I know all, my love,” said the young man, kissing her.  “I arrived last night and saw Mrs Gabriel. She did not spare me.”

“Your mother?”

“She is no more mother of mine, Sybil.  She told me she hated me; called me a thief, and turned me out of the castle.  I shall never enter it again - never!  Last night I slept at Pratt’s.  He was a good Samaritan and took me in.  This morning I went to see Hale.”

Sybil clapped her hands.  “Oh, then it is all right!” she cried joyfully.  “I could have told my father that you had got the money from him, but I thought it better you should do so yourself.”

“I can’t do that without Hale calling me a liar.”

“Leo!  What do you mean?”

“That in the eyes of the people here I am both a liar and a thief.  Hale, whom I saw this morning, denies having given me the money.”

“Has he spread that all about the town?” asked Sybil, scarcely able to believe her ears.

“No, he is too clever for that.  Now I know, Sybil, why he gave me the money in gold.  So that he might be able to deny the debt if occasion arose, as it has done.  Had he given me a cheque his signature would have given him the lie.”

“But what does he mean by denying that he lent you the money?”

“Well, I’ll give you Pratt’s theory.  I believe it is the true one,” and the young man rapidly repeated the conversation he had had with the American on the previous evening.  “So you see you were right, Sybil.”

“I knew it,” said Sybil in low tones.  “Do you remember how I told you on the day of Mrs Bathurst’s picnic?  What is to be done now?”

“There is nothing to be done save to fight,” said Leo, fiercely, “and fight I shall.  I had intended to enlist, but I shall not do that until I have cleared my name.  To leave here now would be to give colour to the lies that are being told about me.  I shall stay with Pratt.  He is my friend, and you, Sybil, also.  We three will fight it out.”

“Mr Raston is also your friend, Leo.  He says he does not believe for one moment that you did what you are accused of doing.”

“Thank God for that!  How can anyone who knows me believe me guilty of so terrible a crime?  To rob a church!  Think of it, Sybil.  Your father?  Does he believe I did this vile thing?”

“He suspends his judgment, Leo, until he has heard your defence.”

“Alas, Sybil, what defence can I make save state that I am innocent?  I cannot make Hale confess that he lent me the money, and I cannot prove, independently of him, that he did so.  This morning he coolly denied all knowledge of the loan, but said that for my sake he would not speak of the visit I had made or the threats I had used.”

“Did you use threats, Leo?”

“I am afraid I did, dear.  But is it not enough to make an honest man’s blood boil to be placed in such a position?  I threatened to give him a thrashing.  But when I remembered that he was a cripple, of course I could not do that.  But for all his physical weakness, he is a venomous beast.  No, Sybil, without Hale I can do nothing.”  He paused for a moment, and then went on.  “I think the best way to do is to wait,” he said.  “If this is a plot on Hale’s part he will continue to carry it out - that is, he will make some proposition to me about giving you up.  I don’t suppose he will want me to marry his sister, now that I am called a thief.”

Sybil placed her hand over his mouth.  “You must not be so bitter, Leo.  I will not have you revile yourself in this way.  Don’t you think you had better see my father?”

“What good would that do, my dear?  I can only tell the story I tell you, and as I have no evidence to prove its truth, he probably will not believe me.  No, Sybil.  It is best for me to remain quietly with Pratt, and wait until Hale makes some move.  Besides, Pratt is a clever man of the world, and can guide me.  No doubt everyone will be disagreeable, but I must put up with that.  I refuse to go away, as though the charge against me were true.  You will see me sometimes, Sybil?”

“Whenever I can,” she replied; “but it will not be easy.  When my father hears that you are back he will be more particular than ever to keep me from meeting you.”

Leo mused.  “I wonder why he has changed so, Sybil?  He used to like me.”

“I think Mrs Gabriel said something which has turned him against you.”

“Very probably,” replied Leo, bitterly; “for some reason she hates me.  But all is at an end between us.  I wait here, Sybil, to vindicate my character, and afterwards I shall carry out my plan of enlisting.  I may be years away from you, but you will be true, I know.”

“I swear to be true, Leo!  I marry no one but you.”

“Not even Hale,” whispered Leo, straining her to his breast.

Sybil laughed.  “If I disliked him before, think how I hate him now!” she said.  “He is acting a mean part.  But his punishment will come.  Now go, Leo, for my father may come at any moment.”

The two lovers embraced and parted.  Leo went away much comforted by the belief Sybil had in his innocence.  He returned to The Nun’s House, and spent the day with Pratt talking over the position of affairs.  It was a disagreeable position, and at the present moment he could see no way of mending it.  Hale alone could prove his innocence, and Hale refused to speak out.  Bitterly did Leo regret that he had ever been tempted to believe in this fox.

The days went by, and the position remained much the same as it was.  By this time the excitement consequent on the loss of the cup had died out.  Leo remained mostly within doors, as he did not care about meeting the cold looks of those he had known from childhood.  Mrs Gabriel gave no sign, but secluded herself within her own grounds.  Once or twice Pratt saw her on Leo’s behalf, but he could do nothing with her.  However, he told Leo to keep up his spirits, that all would come right.  But how this alteration was to be brought about he did not say.  Pratt knew when to keep his own counsel.

Towards the end of the week Mrs Jeal returned.  Her father was much better, she said, and she had come back to look after Pearl.  The mad girl was now out of bed, but, as yet, unable to leave the cottage.  Someone had conveyed to her the news of the loss - Raston shrewdly suspected Joan Barker - but, strange to say, she was not so upset about it as had been expected.

“The Master has taken His cup to use in heaven,” she told the curate, who often came to sit with her.  “When he thinks fit he will bring it back again to the altar.”

Raston was puzzled by this queer view, but as it prevented the girl from fretting he outwardly agreed with her.  Having settled the matter thus, Pearl rarely referred to the loss.  She was quite content to wait until the cup was restored.  Taking a hint from Raston, Mrs Jeal never discussed the matter.  All the same she knew more about the missing cup than the Colester people knew.  And it was in this way she explained the matter to Harold Raston.

“Sir,” she said one day shortly after her return, “I want you to get me speech with his reverence.  I wish to make a statement to him.”

“Indeed, Mrs Jeal!  What is the statement?”

“It is about the cup, sir.  But I prefer to speak to the vicar and to Mr Haverleigh.  I hear he is staying with Mr Pratt.”

“I believe he is.  Some foolish people accuse him of having stolen the cup, Mrs Jeal.  I hope you will be able to give us some information likely to lead to its discovery, so that Mr Haverleigh’s character can be cleared.”

Mrs Jeal screwed up her mouth, and sent out a flash from her wicked eyes.  She absolutely refused to speak save in the presence of Mr Tempest and Leo.  Therefore, after a consultation with the vicar, Raston went to see Leo, and asked him to come to the Vicarage.  Leo was surprised at the summons, and not very willing to obey it.  He resented the way in which he had been treated by Mr Tempest.  Still, from what was hinted by Mrs Jeal, he fancied that she might be able to clear his character, so he accompanied Raston to the place of meeting.

Mrs Jeal was already in the study, seated beside the vicar’s desk.  She was dressed in her best, and looked demure as any cat.  Tempest reddened when he saw Leo, and held out his hand.  Leo refused to take it.  “No, sir,” he said coldly; “you have not treated me well.  I thought you were my friend, but I find you believe me to be a thief.”

“Pardon me,” replied Tempest, suddenly growing hard, “I do not say that you took the cup.  I refuse to believe anything against you until I hear what you have to say in your own defence.”

“I make no defence, Mr Tempest,” rejoined Leo.  “Sybil believes me guiltless; so does Pratt; Raston also is my friend.  I can only wait until I am vindicated by time.  Or perhaps Mrs Jeal will prove to you that I did not steal the cup,” and Leo looked at the crafty face of the woman.

Mrs Jeal at a nod from the vicar, rose and folded her hands.  “I can prove that you did steal it, Mr Haverleigh,” she said.  “I saw you pawn the cup in London.”