"Bede Greatorex has had nothing to do with it. 'Twas his father."
"Well now, I have a favour to ask you, Mr. Butterby," continued the other after a pause. "The good name of a young woman is a great deal easier lost than regained, as no one can tell better than yourself. It will be an awful thing if Alletha Rye, being innocent--as I swear to you she is--should be accused of this dreadful crime before the world. You have known her a long while: will you not stretch a point to save it?"
"That might depend a good deal upon what the point was," replied Mr. Butterby.
"A very simple one. Only this--that you would stay proceedings until I have had time to see Bede Greatorex. Let her remain here, in custody of course--for I am not so foolish as to suppose you could release her--but don't molest her; don't take her away. In fact, treat her as though you knew she were wrongfully accused. You may be obliged to me for this later, Mr. Butterby--I won't say in the interests of humanity, but of justice."
Various thoughts and experiences of the past, as connected with Bede Greatorex, came crowding into the mind of Butterby. His lips parted with a smile, but it was not a favourable one.
"I think that Bede Greatorex could join with me in satisfying you that it was not Miss Rye," urged the petitioner. "I am almost sure he can do this if he will.
"Which is as much as to say that both he and you have got your suspicions turned on some other quarter," rejoined Butterby. "Who was it?"
That Mr. Brown's cheeks took a darker tinge at the direct query, was plain to be seen. He made no answer.
"Come! Who did that thing? You know."
"If I do not know--and I am unable to tell you that I do, Mr. Butterby--I can yet make a shrewd guess at it."