"Well," said the old man thoughtfully, "come to that, there are plenty of folk with light traps hereabout; and I know of two lame horses. Old Saxer, the carter, has one, and Hopkin, the butcher, has one, and—why, yes, Lord Elgert himself has a pretty little mare lame in her left foreleg. She hurt herself in a hole, and, though she goes all right now, she has a bit of a limp. And, why, come to think of it, now I remember who your father put me in mind of."
"Who—oh, who?" cried Ralph eagerly; while Irene looked on not less interested.
"Who?" said the innkeeper. "Why, of old Lord Stephen! He was Lord Elgert's uncle, and he died without leaving child of his own. He had one son, who died long, long ago. That is it, for certain! But what ails you, young sir?"
For Ralph had gone quite white. He had never expected that answer. Lord Elgert had a lame horse! Lord Elgert was the nephew of some one whom his father had resembled! Lord Elgert had told that wicked story about his father; and Lord Elgert was so very anxious for him to go back to the plains, and leave England behind him for ever! Surely it could not be! And yet, as Ralph pondered, he seemed to call to mind a hundred things to strengthen his suspicions. It could not be that Lord Elgert knew anything about his father!
A very grave Ralph walked home to lunch; and a very grave Mr. St. Clive listened to his story.
"I could wish that this had not been brought up, Ralph," he said. "I fear that it will only unsettle you again; and, in spite of all that you advance, I cannot bring myself to believe that you are anything but mistaken. Lord Elgert may not be a pleasant man to deal with, but this is a very, very grave thing to even so much as hint at."
But whatever Mr. St. Clive might say, Ralph could not get the thing out of his head. It is not to be wondered at that it should haunt him and make him feel excited. After waiting so long, this was like the first real tangible clue. And he had been thinking that it was poor Charlton's father who must be at the bottom of it! Poor Charlton!
Walking by himself, Ralph pondered upon the fact that, after all, if any one had hinted to him what he had hinted to his chum he would have been just as hurt and indignant. And now that he was cleared it would be manly and nice to go and ask him to be friends again.
"He can hardly do anything if I don't give him the chance," he told himself. "I will do it as soon as I get back to school on Monday."
His head full of the tracks of lame horses and light traps, he had taken his way across towards Stow Wood, the scene of that tragedy—for tragedy he believed there had surely been—and as he walked over the common he reflected that those marks had led away in the direction of Great Stow; and in Great Stow or just beyond it, Lord Elgert lived.