truth, I have wondered that ever
since he came here. There!"

"Why, mother?" asked Audrey, wonderingly.

"Because he doesn't possess a single Greyle characteristic," replied Mrs.
Greyle, readily enough, "I ought to know--I married Valentine Greyle,
and I knew Stephen John, and I saw plenty of both, and something of their
father, too, and a little of Marcus before he emigrated. This man does
not possess one Single scrap of the Greyle temperament!"

Mr. Dennie put away his snuff-box and drumming on the table with his
fingers looked out of his eye corners at Copplestone who still stood with
his back to the rest, staring out of the window.

"And what," said Mr. Dennie, softly, "what--er, does our good friend Mr.
Copplestone say?"

Copplestone turned swiftly, and gave Audrey a quick glance.

"I say," he answered in a sharp, business-like fashion, "that Gilling,
who's stopping at the inn, you know, is walking up and down outside here,
evidently looking out for me, and very anxious to see me, and with your
permission, Mrs. Greyle, I'd like to have him in. Now that things have
got to this pitch, I'd better tell you something--I don't see any good in
concealing it longer. Gilling isn't an invalid curate at all!--he's a
private detective. Sir Cresswell Oliver and Petherton, the solicitor,
sent him down here to watch Greyle--the Squire, you know--that's
Gilling's job. They suspect Greyle--have suspected him from the very
first--but of what I don't know. Not--not of this, I think. Anyway, they
do suspect him, and Gilling's had his eye on him ever since he came here.
And I'd like to fetch Gilling in here, and I'd like him to know all that
Mr. Dennie's told us. Because, don't you see, Sir Cresswell and
Petherton ought to know all that, immediately, and Gilling's their man."

Audrey's brows had been gathering in lines of dismay and perplexity
all the time Copplestone was talking, but her mother showed no
signs of anything but complete composure, crowned by something very
like satisfaction, and she nodded a ready acquiescence in
Copplestone's proposal.

"By all means!" she responded. "Bring Mr. Gilling in at once."

Copplestone hurried out into the garden and signalled to the
pseudo-curate, who came hurrying across from the quay. One glance at him
showed Copplestone that something had happened.

"Gad!--I thought I should never attract your attention!" said Gilling
hastily. "Been making eyes at you for ten minutes. I say--Gr