Dashwood nodded sulkily. He had a vague idea that Ralph was making fun of him in some way. Still, he was understood to say that such was his precise meaning. Lady Dashwood rose and walked off in the direction of the house; she had to see to the comfort of her expected visitors.

"I hope you will dine with us tonight, Mr. Darnley," she said. "Just Sir George and Mary, with Vincent here--nothing more than a quiet family party."

"Too quiet and too family for me," Dashwood muttered. "You can count me out. Besides, I have the most important business in London tonight."

Lady Dashwood looked relieved. There was no mistaking the expression of her face as she turned away. Dashwood noticed it, and his face flushed dully. He made a motion to follow, but Ralph laid a strong hand upon his arm.

"One moment, if you please," he said, "I should like to have a few words with you on the subject of that matchbox. The police are pretty certain to ask you a great many questions concerning it, as you can see for yourself?"

"Let 'em ask," growled Dashwood, "it's nothing to do with me. I dropped that box, and the chap who set fire to the house picked it up."

"But suppose that chap, as you call him, happened to see you hanging about the house at a very early hour in the morning, a groom or somebody of that kind, who was prepared to swear to your identity? What then, my dear sir?"

Ralph was only drawing a bow at a venture; he was really working out a little theory of his own, but the arrow went home to the feather. Dashwood's face turned to a dull grey; he seemed to be utterly unnerved for the moment.

"Look here," he blustered presently, "what do you think you are likely to gain by asking me all these prying questions? Suppose I was hanging about the place last night. What then? Isn't it natural? Can't you understand the interest I take in my own property? You don't suppose that I should be likely to burn down a house of my own that contained some fifty thousand pounds worth of artistic treasures?"

"Your logic is too strong for me," Ralph smilingly admitted. "As the claimant to the property and the title you are hardly likely to destroy the house. But there is one thing that puzzles me--if things are as you say, why do you not press your claim?"

"Because I am short of a certain document. It is rather an important document for it happens to be my mother's marriage certificate. But I am informed that the proper will comes into my possession soon, and then I can move. Till that time I have decided to let sleeping dogs lie."

"Meaning that Sir George is to remain in blissful ignorance, I presume?"

"That's about it. Let him make the best of his reign. And that stuck-up daughter of his! She'll get her face to the grindstone before she is much older. Besides, there is another matter. Lady Dashwood has to be considered."

With difficulty Ralph disguised his contempt. A fine consideration the speaker had for Lady Dashwood! He was trading cunningly on her weakness and her desire to avoid scandal. It was his cue to pretend that he did not care to take any steps during the lifetime of the unhappy old lady. He had stripped her pretty well of all she had, without any risk to himself. So long as the golden stream flowed he need never fear.

Directly he came to make his claim he would be asked searching questions and would have to satisfy keen legal minds of the honesty of his proofs. Meanwhile, he preferred to blackmail an innocent old lady who was too ill and broken down to protest. Ralph read the fellow like an open book, but he was going to make use of him later, if needs be. Therefore it was that he disguised his feelings now.

"That sounds very creditable," he said. "It is very good of you to consider Lady Dashwood's feelings in this way. I hope she is correspondingly grateful."

"She isn't anything of the kind," Dashwood protested. "She fairly hates me. Every bit of affection that she has is centred on Sir George Dashwood's girl. Everything must be made smooth for Mary. Maybe her pride will have a bit of a dash before long. I don't know why I am telling you all these things, except that you seem a good sort. For all I know to the contrary, you may be a police spy inquiring into my past. All the same, I don't think the old lady would stoop to that kind of thing."

"You are quite right," Ralph said drily. "I'm sure she couldn't. I must be going now. I shall not have the pleasure of seeing you at dinner tonight?"

Dashwood winked significantly. There were better attractions elsewhere. The air seemed to be all the sweeter and purer after he had gone. Very slowly and thoughtfully Ralph made his way across the fields in the direction of his temporary ab............