Vane's banter and anxious desire to cheer him up did Hench good, and he produced a large blue envelope out of his pocket which contained several papers. The young man glanced at these doubtfully, then laid them on the table. "You can examine them at your leisure," he said, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I'll tell you the story instead of reading it." "That will be best," assented Vane brightly. "Begin, Scheherazade." "My grandfather," said Hench conversationally, "lived at Rhaiadr in South Wales, where his family had resided for centuries. They were minor princes, I believe, before the first Edward conquered the country, but dwindled in importance as the centuries went by. When the family estates came to my grandfather, all he had was considerable property in Rhaiadr and a tumbledown family seat. He was called Mynydd Evans----" "Curious Christian name," commented Vane, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Yes! Gilberry, who seems to know something of the Welsh language, told me that it means 'Great.' So my grandfather was really Great Evans, so called because he was the chief person in Rhaiadr, and because he was a stout, bulky man, over six feet three in height. He was discontented with his lot, as he wanted money and power and position, and the deuce knows what." "Rather a grabber, Owain, considering that he was the Lord of Rhaiadr--and that's another queer name." "It means water tumbling over a rock--a waterfall, in fact," said Hench, with a nod. "My father mentioned the word to Madame Alpenny and gave her the translation. Well, to continue. Mynydd Evans collected what money he could and came to London. There he set up as a merchant, and being clever, in a wonderfully short space of time he made a large fortune." "He must have done so considering he could leave your uncle ten thousand a year," said Vane emphatically. "But why didn't he return to Rhaiadr?" "Mr. Gilberry couldn't explain that. I expect the old man found the Welsh parish of his ancestors too narrow for his ambition, and perhaps too far from London and his place of business. He bought the Lordship of the Manor of Cookley, in Essex, and took up his abode in the old Grange. There he died." "And your Uncle Madoc, as the eldest son, became the heir?" "Now, that is exactly what did not happen. Mynydd Evans had two sons--my father, Owain, and Madoc--and my father was the elder of the two. He was"--Hench wriggled uneasily--"he was a rotter, and I'm breaking the fifth commandment in saying so, Jim." "Well," said the barrister coolly, "from what you told me of your father when we met six months ago, I rather think he was a bad lot." "Unfortunately, yes," said Hench hastily. "But he is dead, so let us say as little about him as possible. Anyhow, he contrived so mortally to offend my grandfather with his doings that he was cut out of the will." "What did he do particularly shady?"