"Who? Adam? Yes. Where did you meet him?"
"At Portfront," said Leo, with a nod to Adam, who smiled. "He told me he had been up to London on your business. I gave him a lift part of the way. Didn't I, Adam?"
"I shouldn't have got home otherwise, sir," said Adam, respectfully, and departed to get food for his benefactor. Pratt seemed pleased that his servant was so friendly with Leo. He had a great opinion of Adam's intelligence. Also, Adam was a power in the house—but Leo did not know that. Later on, he learned all about it, to his great astonishment.
"Come now," said Pratt, when Leo had eaten and had finished a glass or two of port. "Tell me about this cup. Did you take it?"
"I certainly did not!" said Leo, stiffly. "I wonder at your asking me such a question, Pratt! I am not a thief!"
His host laughed somewhat nervously. "I only wanted to be sure, my dear lad," he said. "Don't get angry with your best and only friend."
"I have another friend," said Leo, looking up from the cigar he was cutting, "and that is Sybil. She does not believe that I am guilty."
"Have you seen her, then?"
"No. But I do not want to see her in order to know that. She loves me, Mr Pratt, and would never believe me guilty. No; not though the evidence was twice as strong against me!"
"The evidence is strong," said Pratt, rubbing his chin. "You were seen at the chapel, and—"