‘In the fact that I happen to have fallen in love with Teresa, and was tempted beyond resistance by the opportunity offered by your amazing proposition. My love for Teresa has not, I hope, impaired my judgment, and my judgment infallibly tells me that you had a far more powerful reason than that of propriety for urging my engagement to your daughter. And, Mr. Craig, I venture to guess that your reason was that I knew too much of your affairs. You discerned the nature of my feelings towards your daughter, and you determined on a bold stroke. You are an incomparable actor.’ Mr. Craig slowly smiled; it was a smile of almost tragic amusement. ‘Your insight does you credit, Redgrave,’ he said at length. ‘I admit that it was part of my wish to secure your silence, and perhaps your co-operation. Nevertheless, my chief reason for insisting on a betrothal was a regard for Teresa’s future. There are pages in the history of my life that----’ He stopped. ‘We will not go into that,’ he said shortly. ‘As you please,’ Richard assented. ‘Perhaps, to change the subject, you will tell ‘me your object in disappearing so completely to-day, to the grave alarm of my future wife?’ The youth’s spectacles gleamed with good-humoured mischief. ‘I had to perform a certain excursion,’ said Raphael Craig. ‘Now, why in the name of fortune, sir, don’t you say at once that you went to London?’ ‘How do you know that I went to London?’ ‘By this paper.’ Richard pointed to the _Westminster Gazette_, which lay on the floor. ‘It is to-night’s special edition. The _Westminster Gazette_ is not on sale in Hockliffe.’ ‘Yes,’ said the old man half dreamily, ‘I went to London.’ ‘In order to close finally the estate of your uncle, who left you all that silver?’ The irony of Richard’s tone was not lost on the old man. ‘What do you mean, boy?’ ‘I said a few moments ago, sir, that you were an incomparable actor. I alluded to our previous interview in this room. Most cheerfully I admit that Teresa’s father imposed on me then to perfection. I believed you absolutely. Since then----’ ‘What?’ ‘Since then I have found out that you never had any uncle, and that, consequently, your uncle, being non-existent, could not have left you a hundred thousand pounds in silver coin.’ Raphael Craig took a long, deep breath. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I lied to you. But it was a good lie--a lie which I have used so often during the last year or two that I had almost come to believe it truth. You are a clever fellow, Redgrave. How did you discover this?’ ‘To be precise,’ said Richard, ‘it was not I, but your precious Micky, who discovered it.’ ‘Then you are not so clever a fellow.’ ‘Clever enough, sir, to go straight to the point. And the point is, the point at which I have been gradually arriving since our talk began--how did you become possessed of that silver? I ask the question, and I demand an answer to it, as the affianced of your daughter.’