‘Great in judgment,’ answered the paragon, ‘but, alack, no longer a great Judge or a Judge at all.’
‘Not a Judge?’
‘We have resigned, Sir, our Commission. Let it rest at that. The question drops—in Law, cadit quæstio.’
Brion felt a momentary stupefaction; yet, after all, the news told him nothing where he knew nothing. After a brief consideration, he continued:—
‘Why do we stay here, Master Clerivault? Has not my uncle a house?’
The man coughed before answering:—
‘Ay, and to which we are wending.’
‘In London?’
‘Not so; but westwards in Devon—where his family was used to dwell. ’Tis called the Moated Grange.’
The boy sat with wide eyes. This was strange and bewildering enough, to be sure, and not less so for the obvious reserve with which it was all said. He thought again a little, then spoke out candidly:—