is one, which he had
lent to Cleek, or the one he would himself wear at dinner to-night? A
great deal would depend upon that point--as great a deal as sometimes
sends men to the gallows. For whensoever he had last worn this suit,
this bracelet was put in the pocket of it. Upon that point there could
be no shadow of doubt; for although he had forgotten all about the
thing--as evidenced by his leaving it in the pocket when sending the
clothes to Cleek--he could not possibly have put this coat on again
without noticing how abominably the thing sat upon the wearer, and
discovering the cause of it.

And if he had worn this particular suit last night, and Margot could be
proved to have visited Gleer Cottage at, or about, the time of the
murder----Cleek shut off that train of thought, and puckered up his lips
until they were white and full of creases, and sighed inwardly, thinking
of the loving mother and of the added cross for the shoulders of the
bitterly disappointed father, a man and a hero, a soldier and a
gentleman, cursed with such offspring as this!

"And the little beast would sacrifice the pair of them for the price of
a night's orgy, and turn suspicion even against his mother to save his
own skin if he were in danger," was his unspoken summing up of Harry
Raynor's character. "Gad, how little there is in heredity, after all,
when we so often see eagles breeding jackdaws and lions bringing forth
mice!"

The dinner gong sounded again; and it was only then that he realized how
long a time he had spent mooning over a stolen bracelet and a gnat that
seemed suddenly to have grown into a bird of prey.

He turned round on his heel and switched off the light. "A bombshell for
_you_, my laddie!" he said in the soundless words of thought, as he put
the bracelet into the tail pocket of his coat and nodded as if young
Raynor were there in person to be addressed; then he walked out and shut
the door behind him, and went down to the business of dining.

He found the General and his son and Mrs. Raynor and Ailsa awaiting him
in the drawing-room, and was not--considering what he now knew--at all
surprised to learn that Lady Katharine had developed a bad headache,
gone to bed, and wished no dinner at all.

"I can't think what's come over her," said Ailsa when she made this
announcement.

"Oh, can't you?" said young Raynor with a cackling laugh. "Lord! women
don't look far beneath the surface of things, do they, Barch? Who
wou