"You are lucky to have escaped him, as Mr. Clive said. I think--yes, I will tell you about him. His name is not Diggle; it is Simon Peloti. He is a nephew of Sir Willoughby's. His mother married a Greek, against her brother's wish; the man died when the child was a year old. As a boy Peloti was as charming a little fellow as one could wish: handsome, high spirited, clever. He did well at school, and afterwards at Cambridge: won a fellowship there. Then he went to the dogs--not all at once; men never do. He was absolutely without principle, and thought of nothing but his own ease and success. One thing led to another; at last, in the forty-five--"
He paused. After a moment he went on:
"I had a brother, my lad--"
He stopped again, his face expressing poignant grief.
"I know, sir," said Desmond. "Sir Willoughby told me."
"He told you! He did not mention Peloti?"
"No, sir; but I see it all now. It was Diggle--Peloti, I mean--who betrayed your brother. I understand now why the squire took no steps against Grinsell. His accomplice was Diggle."
He related the incident of the house breakers.
"Yes," said Merriman, "that throws a light on things. Peloti, I imagine, had previously seen the squire, and tried to get money from him. Sir Willoughby refused: he gave him a thousand pounds ten years ago on condition he left the country and did not return. So the villain resolved to rob him. 'Twas fortunate indeed you appeared in time. That is the reason for his hating you."
"There was another, sir," said Desmond with some hesitation. "He thought I was hankering after the squire's property--aiming at becoming his heir. 'Twas ridiculous, sir; such an idea never entered my head."