Not in that respect," answered Glassdale. "I'd no idea that he was--or
had been--a married man. He certainly never mentioned wife nor children
to me, sir, and yet I knew Brake about as intimately as two men can know
each other for some years before we came back to England."

Bryce fell into one of his fits of musing. What could be the meaning of
this extraordinary silence on Brake's part? Was there still some hidden
secret, some other mystery at which he had not yet guessed?

"Odd!" he remarked at last after a long pause during which Glassdale had
watched him curiously. "But, did he ever speak to you of an old friend
of his named Ransford--a doctor?"

"Never!" said Glassdale. "Never mentioned such a man!"

Bryce reflected again, and suddenly determined to be explicit.

"John Brake, the bank manager," he said, "was married at a place called
Braden Medworth, in Leicestershire, to a girl named Mary Bewery. He had
two children, who would be, respectively, about four and one years of
age when his--we'll call it misfortune--happened. That's a fact!"

"First I ever heard of it, then," said Glassdale. "And that's a fact,
too!"

"He'd also a very close friend named Ransford--Mark Ransford," continued
Bryce. "This Ransford was best man at Brake's wedding."

"Never heard him speak of Ransford, nor of any wedding!" affirmed
Glassdale. "All news to me, doctor."

"This Ransford is now in practice in Wrychester," said Bryce. "And he
has two young people living with him as his wards--a girl of twenty, a
boy of seventeen--who are, without doubt, John Brake's children. It is
the daughter that I want to marry."

Glassdale shook his head as if in sheer perplexity.

"Well, all I can say is, you surprise me!" he remarked. "I'd no idea of
any such thing."

"Do you think Brake came to Wrychester because of that?" asked Bryce.

"How can I answer that, sir, when I tell you that I never heard him
breathe one word of any children?" exclaimed Glassdale. "No! I know his
reason for coming to Wrychester. It was wholly and solely--as far as
I know--to tell the Duke here about that jewel business, the secret of
which had been entrusted to Brake and me by a man on his death-bed in
Australia. Brake came to Wrychester by himself--I was to join him next
morning: we were then to go to see the Duke together. When I got to
Wrychester, I heard of Brake's accident, and being upset by it, I went
away again and waited some days until yesterday, when