But I must have time to think this matter over. I shall stay down
here a day or two, though I had intended to go back to London to-morrow.
I don't mind so much now that I find nobody identifying me, and there
are several things at the house I want to gather together. I had no idea
the old furniture was left. I suppose they didn't sell it because they
had no instructions from me, and enough was saved from the wreck to pay
my creditors without it. I'll come round in the morning and see you
again, Joe. To-night I believe I am dining with Sir George. If anybody
asks you who I am, you had better say my name is Field; it sounds like
Fielden and is easy to remember. Seeing that I am so changed, nobody
will connect me with the old family. Now I must be off."

In a thoughtful mood Fielden turned towards the old house. He was glad
no one recognized him, for the knowledge was likely to make his task all
the easier. He had the key of the house in his pocket. The mansion
appeared to have been left exactly as he last saw it. There was not even
a caretaker on the premises. The estate around Herons Dyke had long
passed into the possession of strangers. It presented a striking
contrast to the neglected grounds and grass-covered paths which
surrounded the old mansion where, for the last three hundred years, the
Fieldens had kept open house and dispensed a lavish hospitality. But
those days were gone for ever, they would never come back again, unless,
perhaps----

"What a chance!" Fielden muttered to himself. "What a wonderful stroke
of fortune! And yet, I don't see how I can do it. There is no honourable
course but silence."

CHAPTER V

THE SHADOW OF DOUBT

There were many things in the place which Fielden had forgotten. Here
were boxes of cigars and cigarettes, while cards still lay scattered
about and the glasses had not been removed. Fielden had learnt much in
the hard school of adversity, and he began to realize that he had about
him the means to secure a considerable sum of money. Despite the dust
and gloom and air of decay, the library was intact. Fielden was
surprised at this, for he had frequently heard his father say that the
books were valuable. Perhaps it had occurred to nobody to look for rare
books in the house of a man who gave himself over entirely to sport, but
here they were and possibly a little later they might appear to
advantage in a London auction-room. Fielden was not so sanguine as he
once had been,