It was a disappointment, no doubt; and yet somehow the sight of the ring had given Ralph a little hope. It was the wedding-ring, he said to himself, his great-grandmother's wedding-ring. The Major must have been fond of her to have had her ring always about him; and it had been buried with him. That had given rise to the story about the ruby. He drove home, after giving directions about the disposal of the coffins, feeling less sore at heart. He was now convinced that they had right on their side, and there was some comfort in that.
When he reached home, he shewed the ring to Maggie, who agreed with his conclusions.
'But there is something inside—some letters, I think,' she cried.
'It is only the Hall-mark,' said Ralph, having looked in his turn. 'But stop. That tells us something: it will give us a date.'
'How can that be?' asked Maggie.
'Because there is a different mark every year. See! you can make it out with a magnifying-glass. King George in a pigtail.'
The silversmith at Gigglesham turned up his tabulated list of Hall-marks, and told them at once the date of the ring—1760.
'But it might have been made a long time before it was first used,' suggested Maggie.
'True; but it could not have been used before it was made,' replied Ralph. 'It gives us a date approximately, at all events.'
At first, the knowledge of this date did not seem likely to be of much use to them. But it gave them the heart to go on and make further inquiries. Ralph threw himself into the task with fervour. He obtained leave to search the records of the Horse Guards; and ascertained at last where had been stationed the regiment that Richard Hammond then belonged to in that same year.