"I cannot tell you more than I have related," replied the vicar. "This man Pratt took back the cup, and is now in London—where, no one knows. I fear the cup is as lost as though it had been swallowed up by the ocean!"
"It is enough that I know in whose possession it is," said Kilspindie, with determination. "In some way or another I shall find this man. For I may tell you, Mr Tempest, that, besides the recovery of a family treasure, I have another and more important object in view—the recovery of my son, who was stolen from me at the time the cup disappeared."
Tempest expressed much astonishment at this information, and Sybil opened her eyes wide. She had never thought that her attempt to clear the character of her lover would lead to such a result. Neither she nor her father knew what to say, and, seeing them silent, Lord Kilspindie continued to speak.
"How the cup came into the possession of this man I cannot say. It was taken from the castle by a nurse called Janet Grant, who also carried away the child."
"Why did she do that?" asked Sybil, horrified.
"Out of revenge for a fancied slight she received from my wife," replied Kilspindie, with a sigh; "but it is best I should tell you all from the beginning. First, you must know the legend of the cup, that you may understand the value we Grants attach to its possession."
"I am fond of folk-lore," murmured the vicar, settling himself down for a pleasant half-hour. "Your family name is Grant, then, my lord?"
"Yes. Our title is Kilspindie, an earldom. My son who was stolen—my only son and only child, alas!—is Lord Morven, if he be still alive. But who knows if I shall ever see him again?"
"Hope for the best," said the vicar, gently. "God is over all!"
"You are right, Mr Tempest. But how many weary years have I waited, and have had to comfort myself in that fashion. Now, when I had lost all hope, the advertisement roused it again. If I find the cup I may discover my boy, or, at all events, I may find out if he is alive or dead."