They did, and prosecuted it with the utmost care and patience for more than an hour; but the only effect was to fasten suspicion more closely on the absent.
Mr. Plover was so triumphant one would have fancied the justification of his vindictive suspicion was a compensation for the loss of his gem.
“Have you a pen and ink here, or shall I go into the library? I want to write the check,” said Ponsonby.
“You will find everything you want in the library,” said Sir Simon, and Ponsonby went in. Some one rang, and the carriages and horses were ordered. In a few minutes Ponsonby returned with the check, which he handed to Mr. Plover.
“If you require any one to attest my solvency, I dare say Charlton, whom you can trust, will have no objection to do it,” he remarked.
“Certainly not!” said Mr. Charlton promptly.
“Oh! it’s not necessary; I’m quite satisfied with Sir Ponsonby Anwyll’s signature,” Mr. Plover replied. And as he pocketed the check he went to the window and raised the curtain to see if Mr. Charlton’s brougham had come round. The rest of the company were saying good-by, cordial but sad. Sir Simon and the young squire of Rydal stood apart, conversing in an earnest, subdued voice.
“Have you a trap waiting, or shall I drop you at the vicarage?” inquired Lord Roxham of Mr. Langrove.
“Thank you! I shall be very glad,” said the vicar. “The night promised to be so fine I said I would walk home.”
“You will have a wet ride of it, Anwyll; is not that your horse I see?” cried Mr. Charlton from the window, where he had followed his ill-omened friend. “Had you not better leave him here for the night, and let me give you a lift home?”