The Pagan's Cup

"Ah! That is the matter I wish to discuss. I see that you and Miss Tempest are much attached to one another. Do you think the vicar will consent to the marriage?"

"I really can't say. Even before this scandal he seemed to be displeased with me, and kept me away from his house as much as possible. He did not want to see me, and he would not let me see Sybil. We had to meet by stealth. Now he may have changed his mind."

"And if he has? What, then?"

"Then I can announce my engagement to Sybil," said Leo. "But, you see, I am not in a position to marry, and may not be for a long time. I have to make my way in the world, and to make money also. I thought of enlisting for this war, and of fighting my way through the ranks to a commission."

"Even then I do not see how you could marry. You might gain a commission, but not money. Until your worldly prospects are more secure, I do not think you should engage yourself to Miss Tempest."

"That is straight speaking, Marton."

"You gave me permission to speak out. I like you, Haverleigh, and after the trouble you have come through I think you should be rewarded by getting your heart's desire. But if you love Miss Temple, you will not marry her until you can give her a comfortable home. Even if you are successful in South Africa, a baggage waggon is not the place for a delicate girl. You can offer her nothing better than that."

"True enough. I admit that what you say is correct. But what am I to do?"

"Well," said the detective, after a pause, "it seems to me that you have some claim upon your aunt. She took charge of you and brought you up. I understand she intimated that you would be her heir, and you received an education to fit you for the position. If she intended to send you adrift as she has done, she should at least have had you taught some profession or trade whereby you could earn your bread and butter. Yes; I think you have a right to demand some assistance from her."

Leo shook his head and flushed. "I can't bring myself to do that," he said in a low voice. "She has insulted me so deeply that it goes against my nature to eat humble pie. I would rather make my own way in the world. As to Sybil, I shall not ask her to engage herself to me until – as you say – I can offer her a home."

"You can do nothing but enlist, I suppose?"

"No. Soldiering is all I am fit for. Now that my name has been cleared I will bid farewell to Sybil and enlist straight away. She will wait for me, I am certain. I get my commission I can perhaps see my way to make her my wife. If I am shot – well," Leo shrugged his shoulders, "there is an end to all things."

"Haverleigh!" said Marton, after a pause. "Will you tell me what reason your aunt has for disliking you so much?"

"I don't know. She has always been stern and hard with me. Lately she has openly hated me. That is why I left her."

"There is something connected with you that is wrong?"

"Not to my knowledge. I have been foolish, but not wilfully wicked."

"I know that. But Mrs Gabriel knows something – it may be about your parents – that has prejudiced the vicar against you. It was her influence that made him turn against you. He admitted as much to me. But he refused to say what she had told him."

"I guessed all this," said Leo, quietly; "but what can I do?"

"Insist upon knowing what has been said. You have a right to. If the vicar will not speak out – and he has given his word not to – Mrs Gabriel may be forced to do so. Were I you, Haverleigh, I should see her and insist upon an explanation."

"She won't give it."

"I should force it out of her," said Marton, determinedly. "Oh! I know she is a hard woman, but if you persevere she must give way."

Leo thought for a few moments. "Well, Marton," he said at length, "I will see the vicar first and speak to him on the subject of Sybil. From what he says I may see the reason of his attitude towards me. Then I can call upon Mrs Gabriel. You may be sure I shall do my best."

Marton nodded, but said no more for the present, as by this time they were at the door of Hale's house. A demure servant opened the door and took in their names. Shortly she ushered them into a room where Sir Frank was seated in a chair by the window reading to his sister. Edith Hale looked pale and ill. She lay on a sofa, but started up and blushed rosy red when she saw Leo. There was no doubt that the poor girl was deeply in love with the young man. Leo, in the kindness of his heart, felt a pang. It seemed to him that he was treating her cruelly, although the position was none of his making.

"Good-day!" said Hale, without rising, and including Leo and Marton in one swift glance. "I am surprised to see you, Haverleigh. I thought you did not care about keeping up my acquaintance."

Leo would have replied sharply, but as Edith was present he cast a meaning glance in her direction. "I should like to speak with you alone," he said, "that is, in the presence of Mr Marton."

Before Hale could reply Marton interposed. "Wait a bit," he said in his smooth voice, and with a glance at the girl. "There is something to be said first in the presence of Miss Hale."

"In my presence!" she exclaimed turning red, while her brother scowled.

"Yes. Something you will be pleased to hear. You both know that Mr Haverleigh has been accused of stealing this chapel cup."

"I never believed it, never!" cried Edith, eagerly, and Leo gave her a look of gratitude, which made her turn pale with emotion.

"And you, Sir Frank?"

Hale shrugged his shoulders. "I never thought much about the subject," he said, the lie coming at once to his practised lips. "The evidence was against Haverleigh, I admit; but I tried to think the best of him."

"Your speech is rather contradictory, Sir Frank," was the dry response of Marton. "But I think you must have thought well of Haverleigh or you would not have helped him out of his difficulty by lending him money."

"Oh, Frank, did you do that?" cried Edith, taking her brother's hand. "I love you for it. How good you are!"

Hale's face grew blacker and blacker. Had he been alone he would have lied, but in the presence of the sister he loved so deeply he could not bring himself to deny the truth. Moreover, he had a kind of instinctive feeling that Marton had come to proclaim the innocence of Leo, else why should he come at all? His plot of getting Leo into his power had failed – he was clever enough to see that – so it only remained for him to retreat with as much dignity as possible.

"I was only too glad to help Haverleigh," he said quietly, and with marked courtesy. "He was in debt, and the three hundred pounds I gave him was of some use, I believe. I beg that he will say no more on the subject."

"How good you are – how good you are!" gasped Edith, caressing her brother. Leo and Marton glanced at one another. Hale's masterly retreat took them both by surprise. When Leo remembered the conversation in the chapel he could hardly believe his ears. The only thing to be done was to beat the man with his own weapons.

"I will say no more, Hale, save that when I am able the money shall be repaid. I thank you heartily for your kindness."

Sir Frank bit his lip, but summoned up sufficient dignity to be gracious. He and Leo were both wearing masks for the benefit of Edith. "Pay the money when you like," he said, sitting up. "I am shortly going abroad with my sister, and I do not think we shall see one another for a long time. However, my solicitor at Portfront will attend to the matter of the loan."

"Then there really was a loan," said Marton, determined to get the plain truth out of Hale in the presence of witnesses.

"Certainly. I gave Leo three hundred pounds in gold. I have already said so."

"And it was with that loan he paid his debts?" pursued Marion.

"Yes," said Leo, seeing his drift, "I paid them with that money. But the good people here declared that I sold the cup to pay them!"

"How could they! How could they!" muttered Edith.

"Because they are fools," cried Sir Frank, seeing that he was completely beaten. "For my part, I never believed that Haverleigh did such a thing!"

"Thank you," said Leo, inwardly smiling at the lie.

"Then you will be delighted to hear that the thief has been found."

As Marton spoke Hale suddenly turned pale, and rose with an effort. "The thief has been – found!" he stammered.

"Yes," replied Marton, with a swift glance, thinking at once of his theory of a conspiracy. "It seems that this man Angel – I beg your pardon, you know him as Pratt – stole the cup."

"But it was Mr Pratt who gave it!" cried Edith.

"Quite so, Miss Hale. Afterwards he was sorry that his generosity had led him to make so great a sacrifice. Therefore he stole what he had bestowed."