ture. Was it possible for him to do it, Sir?"

"As possible as it is for me to go down to Sevenoaks and shoot my dear
old father, who is spending a green and agreeable old age there. Not
that your grandfather, if I may say it without causing pain to you, was
either green or agreeable. He was an uncommonly sharp old man; I might
even say a hard one. As you never saw him, you will not think me rude in
saying that much. Your love, of course, is for your father; and if your
father had had a father of larger spirit about money, he might have
been talking to me pleasantly now, instead of--instead of all these sad
things."

"Please not to slip away from me," I said, bluntly, having so often met
with that. "You believe, as every good person does, that my father was
wholly innocent. But do tell me who could have done it instead. Somebody
must have done it; that seems clear."

"Yes," replied Mr. Shovelin, with a look of calm consideration;
"somebody did it, undoubtedly; and that makes the difficulty of the
whole affair. 'Cui bono,' as the lawyers say. Two persons only could
have had any motive, so far as wealth and fortune go. The first and
most prominent, your father, who, of course, would come into every thing
(which made the suspicion so hot and strong); and the other, a very nice
gentleman, whom it is wholly impossible to suspect."

"Are you sure of that? People have more than suspected--they have
condemned--my father. After that, I can suspect any body. Who is it?
Please to tell me."

"It is the present Lord Castlewood, as he is beginning to be called.
He would not claim the title, or even put forward his right in any way,
until he had proof of your dear father's death; and even then he behaved
so well--"

"He did it! he did it!" I cried, in hot triumph. "My father's name shall
be clear of it. Can there be any doubt that he did it? How very simple
the whole of it becomes! Nothing astonishes me, except the stupidity of
people. He had every thing to gain, and nothing to lose--a bad man, no
doubt--though I never heard of him. And putting it all on my father, of
course, to come in himself, and abide his time, till the misery killed
my father. How simple, how horribly simple, it becomes!"

"You are much too quick, too hot, too sudden. Excuse me a minute"--as a
silver bell struck--"I am wanted in the next room. But before I go, let
me give you a glass of cold water, and beg you to dismiss that new idea
from your mind."