r. Drayton. He glanced down with a look that seemed
to say that Hugh Ritson had his Maker to thank for giving him the
benefit of an infirm foot.

Hugh Ritson mollified him by explaining that if he had any curiosity as
to the name, he could discover it for himself. "Besides," said Hugh,
"what matter about the name if your mother is dead?"

"That's true," said Drayton, who, being now appeased, began to see that
his anger had been puerile.

"Depend upon it, your father, wherever he is, is a cipher," said Hugh
Ritson.

Drayton got on to his feet and trudged the floor uneasily. An idea had
occurred to him. "The person picked out of the river may have been
another woman. I've heard of such."

"Possibly; but the chance of error is worth little to you." Hugh looked
uncomfortable as he said this, but Drayton saw nothing.

"Bah! What matter?" said Drayton, and, determined to cudgel his brains
no longer, he reached for the brandy and drank another half glass. There
was then an interchange of deep amity.

"Tell me," said Hugh, "what passed at the Ghyll on Monday night?"

"The Ghyll? Monday? That was the night of the snow. What passed?
Nothing."

"Why did you go?"

"Wanted to see your mother. Saw your brother one night late at the door
of the parson's house. Saw you at the fire. At the fire?--certainly.
Stood a matter of a dozen yards away when that young buck of a stableman
drove up with the trap. What excuse for going? Blest if I
remember--summat or other; knocked, and no one came. I don't know how
long and all I stood cooling my heels at the door. Then I saw a light
coming from a room on the first floor, and up I went and knocked. 'Come
in,' says somebody. I went in. Withered old party got up. Black crape
and beads, you know. But, afore I could speak, she reeled like a top and
fell all of a heap. Blest if the old girl didn't take me for a ghost!"
Mr. Drayton elevated his eyebrows, and added with emphasis, "I got out."

"And on the way back you frightened a young lady in the lane, who, like
my mother, mistook you for the ghost of my brother Paul. Well, that
young lady was married to my brother this morning. They are now on their
way to London. They intend to leave England on Wednesday next, and they
mean to pass to-night in your house."

Mr. Drayton's eyebrows went up again.

"It is certainly hard to understand--but look," and Hugh Ritson handed
to Drayton the telegram he had received from Bonnithorne. That worthy