"Certainly, certainly. Who but you, the giver of the cup, should wish to help? Come here this afternoon, Mr Pratt."
As Pratt left the Vicarage he met Sybil, who looked sad. "Don't take on so, Miss Tempest," he said; "we'll find the cup yet."
"I was not thinking so much of that," explained Sybil; "but this morning my poor dear Leo went away."
"When is he coming back?"
"Towards the end of next week. I wonder who can have taken the cup?"
Pratt sneered, an unusual thing for so good-natured a man. "No doubt the Portfront police will tell us," he said; "but I haven't much opinion of law officers myself, Miss Sybil. I once lost a lot of gems in London, and the thief was never found. Are you fond of gems? Come to my house and I'll show you my collection. I have several thousand pounds' worth."
"Is it not dangerous to keep them in your house after this robbery?"
Pratt laughed. "I don't think a thief would steal them so easily as the cup!" he laughed. "I have a good dog and a capital revolver. No, Miss Sybil, I can look after my property well, I assure you."
When he went away Sybil sighed and sought her room. The departure of Leo had left her very sad. She did not know what would become of him. He would pay his debts and then enlist for South Africa. In that case she would not see him again for months. Perhaps never—for it might be that some bullet would lay him low on the veldt. However, for the sake of her father, she strove to assume a light-hearted demeanour. The vicar felt the loss of the cup keenly. And although Sybil thought he had treated her hardly in her love affair, she laid all thoughts of self aside so as to comfort him in his trouble.
As for Pratt, he walked back to his own house. At the foot of the Castle Hill he met Mrs Gabriel, who seemed to be in a great state of indignation. As usual, her anger was directed against Leo.