‘How ever did they come into this property?’
‘They’re of the breed somehow—a long way off though. Shouldn’t I like to see a new claimant come up and oust them after all! They haven’t had it above five-and-twenty years or so. Wouldn’t you?’
‘The old man was kind to me once.’
‘How was that? I thought it was only through Mrs Wilson you knew anything of them.’
I told her the story of the apple.
‘Well, I do rather like old Sir Giles,’ she said, when I had done. ‘There’s a good deal of the rough country gentleman about him. He’s a better man than his son anyhow. Sons will succeed their fathers, though, unfortunately.’
‘I don’t care who may succeed him, if only I could get back my sword. It’s too bad, with an armoury like that, to take my one little ewe-lamb from me.’
Here I had another story to tell. After many interruptions in the way of questions from my listener, I ended it with these words—
‘And—will you believe me?—I saw the sword hanging in that armoury this afternoon—close by that splendid hilt I pointed out to you.’
‘How could you tell it among so many?’