“It is no use; but there is nothing else I can do; so come along!”
They entered the house, and Sir Norman led the page direct to Leoline's room, where the light was.
“I left her here when I went away, and here the lamp was burning when I came back: so it must have been from this room she was taken.”
Hubert was gazing slowly and critically round, taking note of everything. Something glistened and flashed on the floor, under the mantel, and he went over and picked it up.
“What have you there?” asked Sir Norman in surprise; for the boy had started so suddenly, and flushed so violently, that it might have astonished any one.
“Only a shoe-buckle—a gentleman's—do you recognize it?”
Though he spoke in his usual careless way, and half-hummed the air of one of Lord Rochester's love songs, he watched him keenly as he examined it. It was a diamond buckle, exquisitely set, and of great beauty and value; but Sir Norman knew nothing of it.
“There are initials upon it—see there!” said Hubert, pointing, and still watching him with the same powerful glance. “The letters C. S. That can't stand for Count L'Estrange.”
“Who then can it stand for?” inquired Sir Norman, looking at him fixedly, and with far more penetration than the court page had given him credit for. “I am certain you know.”
“I suspect!” said the boy, emphatically, “nothing more; and if it is as I believe, I will bring you news of Leoline before you are two hours older.”