"She is a child of sin," groaned Mrs Jeal.
"She is as pure and good as an angel," cried the curate, frowning. "It is you who are the evil doer, Mrs Jeal! Well, Mr Tempest, the girl thought in her half-delirious state that she would test the goodness of God. She proposed to take the cup out of the chapel and place it on an altar of turf which she had prepared on the moor. It was her idea that if God wished to save her, He would take the cup up to Heaven, and then replace it at a later date on the altar. She, therefore, while Mrs Jeal was absent, dressed herself and ran out of the house. She went to the house of old Barker the sexton. His door was not locked—he told a lie about that to save himself—and she knew where the key of the church hung. It was in her hand in a moment, and she went to the church sometime about ten o'clock. She entered and took the cup. Then she replaced the key on its nail after relocking the door."
"One moment," interrupted Mr Tempest; "those scratches on the lepers' window—we thought, if you remember, that the robber had entered that way."
"I shrewdly suspect that old Barker made those scratches to save his own skin," said Raston. "You had better ask him." And it may here be mentioned that the vicar did, and learned that what Raston said was true. The old sexton, finding the cup gone, feared lest he might be accused of the robbery, and so conceived the idea of making marks as though someone had entered at a window which his fat body could not possibly have squeezed through. It was a clever idea and misled all. But old Barker was punished by being sent to Portfront after he had confessed.
"It was when Pearl left Barker's cottage with the cup that Mrs Jeal met her," went on the curate. "She had missed her out of bed, and thinking that the mad girl had gone to the chapel, followed. She met her at the door of the cottage and saw that she had the cup. It was then that the idea came into her wicked head to steal the cup."
"It's a lie!" cried Mrs Jeal again.
"It is what you told Old Penny, anyhow, as he is prepared to swear in court," said the curate, coolly. "He would not give you what you asked for the cup until you told him where you got it. For a wonder, you told the truth. Yes, Mrs Jeal, you followed Pearl on to the moor and saw her set the cup on the turf altar. Waiting till she got back to your cottage, you took the cup and concealed it under your shawl. You took it home, and found the girl back again in bed, very ill from the effects of exposure. For a time you nursed her while the hue and cry was being made about the cup. Then you made the excuse that your father was ill and went to London. You have no father, Mrs Jeal, and Old Penny, in answer to a letter of yours, sent the wire. You told him you had something for him, and so he aided you with your plot. You took the cup to London, pawned it to Old Penny after telling him the story, and got five hundred pounds for it."
"I did not—I did not!" Mrs Jeal tried again to rise, and again had to remain; Lord Kilspindie kept his heavy grip on her shoulder. In his rage at her duplicity he could have slain her, but he spared her for the moment that he might learn the truth. After many years of darkness dawn was breaking. Mrs Jeal saw that the end was in sight and began to sob.
"Then," continued Raston, "you banked the money and came down to tell that wicked lie about Leo Haverleigh. You know that he was never near the place—that he was innocent and that you were guilty. However, Pratt got all this out of Old Penny, and then gave him the five hundred pounds for the cup. He took it to his own place, and when I was with him he handed it to me."
"Come," said Kilspindie, "there is some good in the man."