"You are very clever, Haverleigh. That is just what I did want. Had I given you a cheque you could have proved the loan. Even notes might have shown the truth. But I wanted to be free to act as I pleased, so I went to the trouble of getting gold from the bank."
"Then it seems to me that you had this cup stolen by some confederate, and intended to lay the blame on me so as to get me into a trap!"
"Indeed, no," protested Hale, so loudly that Leo believed he was speaking the truth. "The stealing of the cup, and the subsequent blame being thrown on you, was unexpected. But I took advantage of the opportunity. You can prove your innocence only by my help, Haverleigh, and I give my evidence only on conditions."
"I was prepared for such a speech," said Leo, calmly; "but it won't do, my friend. You must go to Tempest and tell him that you gave me three hundred pounds to pay my debts. Perhaps then he may disbelieve this ridiculous story of my being a thief."
Hale sat up alertly. "Then you didn't steal the cup?"
"Certainly not. How dare you suggest such a thing? I suspect you know more about the loss of the cup than I do."
The baronet looked down on his crooked leg and smiled ironically. "Do you mean to infer that I thrust this misshapen body through that window?"
"No! But you have plenty of money to pay for any rascality."
"I am not so fond of parting with money," said Hale, dryly. "I know nothing about the cup. But I really thought you stole it. Mrs Jeal's tale—"
"Ha!" Leo started up. "She told you that? Why?"