ke the millionaire brewer who
achieved a knighthood in the last 'Honours List' and whose horse,
Tarantula, is second favourite for the coming Derby?"

"Yes, the very man. He is almost what you might call a neighbour
of ours, Mr. Cleek. His place, Castle Claverdale, is just over the
border line of Northumberland and about five miles distant from
Morcan Abbey. His stables are, if anything, superior to my own; and
we both use the intervening moorland as a training ground. Also, it
was Dawson-Blake's daughter that Lieutenant Chadwick played fast and
loose with. Jilted her, you know--threw her over at the eleventh
hour and married a chorus girl who had nothing to bless herself with
but a pretty face and a long line of lodging-house ancestry. Not
that Miss Dawson-Blake lost anything by getting rid of such a man
before she committed the folly of tying herself to him for life,
but her father never forgave Lieutenant Chadwick and would spend
a million for the satisfaction of putting him behind bars."

"I see. And this Lieutenant Chadwick is--whom may I ask?"

"The only son of my elder and only sister, Mr. Cleek," supplied Lady
Mary with a faint blush. "She committed the folly of marrying
her music master when I was but a little girl, and my father died
without ever looking at her again. Subsequently, her husband deserted
her and went--she never learnt where, to the day of her death.
While she lived, however, both my brother, Lord Chevelmere, and
I saw that she never wanted for anything. We also supplied the
means to put her son through Sandhurst after we had put him
through college, and hoped that he would repay us by achieving
honour and distinction. It was a vain hope. He achieved nothing but
disgrace. Shortly after his deplorable marriage with the theatrical
person for whom he threw over Miss Dawson-Blake--and who in turn
threw him over when she discovered what a useless encumbrance he
was--he was cashiered from the army, and has ever since been a
hanger-on at race meetings--the consort of touts, billiard markers,
card sharpers, and people of that sort. I had not seen him for six
years, when he turned up suddenly in this neighbourhood three days
ago and endeavoured to scrape acquaintance with one of the Abbey
grooms."

"And under an assumed name, Mr. Cleek," supplemented the major
somewhat excitedly. "He was calling himself John Clark and was
trying to wheedle information regarding Highland Lassie out of my
stable-boys.