"And the masked man who stole the runic ring—what of him?" Godfrey asked.
"He, too, is a person who has eluded all my inquiries. And small wonder! Had I been a man at the time when these events happened, instead of a boy of seven, my investigations, begun at once, might have met with success, whereas the long lapse of years has handicapped my efforts. And yet, fanciful as it may sound to you, Godfrey, I am not without hope, even at this late day, of finding my father, and of vindicating his innocence. At any rate, this is the object to which my life is devoted, and from which I shall never swerve."
And Idris, having satisfied the curiosity of his friends on various other points, immaterial in themselves, dropped the subject, and the conversation flowed into other channels.
Presently they were interrupted by the appearance of the page-boy, with a note addressed to Godfrey, who, finding that he was wanted in a critical case, withdrew, leaving Beatrice to entertain the guest.
"I am afraid, Mr. Breakspear," she said, "that you will spend a rather dull time here; our household is a quiet one, and Ormsby offers little in the shape of entertainment. Our only show-places are the old Saxon church on the hill-top, and Ravenhall—Lord Ormsby's seat."
"I think I'll take a stroll towards the old Saxon church," said Idris, who was simple in his tastes, and easily pleased.
"I have to pass that way," Beatrice said, "and, if you care to accompany me——"
Idris, who found Beatrice's soft grey eyes very attractive, readily accepted her offer; and, after a pleasant walk of half an hour, the two reached the ancient church of the Northumbrian saint, Oswald.
"This," said Beatrice, as they passed through an arched doorway, and stood within the subdued light cast by the stained glass, "this is the Ravengar Chantry."
"A sort of oratory and burial-place of the Ravengars?"