"Ann says Mr. Cris went in pretty late last night. After she had locked the big gate."
"Cris came up whilst I was ringing to be let in. He went in himself, but would not let me enter."
"He's a reptile," said old Canham in his anger. "Eh me!" he added, sitting down with difficulty in his armchair, and extending the crutch before him, "what a mercy it would have been if Mr. Joe had lived! Chattaway would never have been stuck up in authority then. Better the Squire had left Trevlyn Hold to Miss Diana."
"They say he would not leave it to a woman."
"That's true, Master Rupert. And of his children there were but his daughters left. The two sons had gone. Rupert the heir first: he died on the high seas; and Mr. Joe next."
"Mark, why did Rupert the heir go to sea?"
Old Canham shook his head. "Ah, it was a bad business, Master Rupert, and it's as well not to talk of it."
"But why did he go?" persisted Rupert.
"It was a bad business, I say. He, the heir, had fallen into wild ways, got to like bad company, and that. He went out one night with some poachers—just for the fun of it. It wasn't on these lands. He meant no harm, but he was young and random, and he went out and put a gauze over his face as they did,—just, I say, for the fun of it. Master Rupert, that night they killed a gamekeeper."
A shiver passed through Rupert's frame. "He killed him?—my uncle, Rupert Trevlyn?"