"But you put him in your picture, didn't you?" suggested Hal.
The Squire smiled. "Hal thoroughly believes in your power of faithful portraiture," observed he.
Young Grantley laughed. "Yes," said he; "I put him in. I told him to return in an hour or two. He was nearer three. He said he had been home."
"Which way did he go?" asked Hal.
"Towards the riverbank," was the reply; "but then we haven't yet decided who he was. My easel, Squire," he added, "is in Elspeth's charge. I'll run down and fetch the canvas if you like."
"No, no; not the least hurry," returned the Squire; "the morning will do just as well. We will sleep upon the information that you've given us."
The boys begged hard to be allowed to escort young Grantley to the farm at once; but it was getting very late, and their grandfather would not entertain the idea.
"Dame Elspeth wouldn't thank us for curtailing her hours of rest," said he. "She is up betimes, no doubt. To bed, now; and directly after breakfast to-morrow, we will start, and identify the thief."
Finding that there was no appeal, the boys gave in. Will and Sigismund went off to bed in high spirits at the idea of dragging a culprit to justice by means of an artist's sketch; but Hal lingered behind, a minute.
"Grandfather," said he, "what will be done with the boy? Will he go to prison, or what?"