"I beg your pardon; I think you have not quite caught my meaning. What I want is, to be assured that Greylands' Rest was left away from my father: that he was passed over for my uncle James. If uncle James came into it by will, or by legal deed, of any kind, let him just show me the deed or the will, and that will suffice."
"You doubt his word then!"
Young Anthony hesitated, before replying; and then spoke out with ingenuous candour.
"The fact is, Uncle Peter, I deem it right to assure myself by proof, of how the matter is; for my father warned me that there might be treachery----"
"Treachery!" came the quick, echoing interposition of the banker; his dark eyes flashing fire.
"My father thought it possible," quietly continued the young man; "he feared that, even though Greylands' Rest was legally mine, my claim to it might be opposed. That is one reason why I press for proof; I should press for it if there existed no other. But I find that doubts already are circulating abroad as to how Mr. James Castlemaine came into the estate, and whether it became lawfully his on my grandfather's death."
"Doubts existing abroad! Doubts where?"
"Amid the neighbours, the people of Greyland's. I have heard one and another talk of it."
"Oh, indeed!" was the cold rejoinder. "Pray where are you staying?"
"At the Dolphin Inn, Uncle Peter. When I descended at it, and saw the flaming dolphin on the signboard, splashing up the water, I could not help smiling; for my father had described it to me so accurately, that it seemed like an old acquaintance."