"The ruse would have succeeded all round but for some little accident that I need not go into now. Rupert Littimer was laid by the heels, his disguise was torn off, and he stood face to face with his hereditary foe. He was told that he had but an hour to live." "'If you have any favour to ask, say it,' Carfax said. "'I have no favour to ask, properly so-called,' Littimer replied; 'but I am loth to die without knowing whether or not I have left anybody to succeed me--anybody who will avenge the crime upon you and yours in the years to come. Let me go as far as Henson Grange, and I pledge you my word I will return in the morning!' "But Carfax laughed the suggestion to scorn. The Court party were all liars and perjurers, and their word was not to be taken. "'It is as I say,' Rupert Littimer repeated. 'My wife lies ill at Henson Grange and in sore trouble about me. And I should like to see my child before I die.' "'Then you shall have the chance,' Carfax sneered. 'I will keep you a close prisoner here for two days, and if at the end of that time nothing happens, you die. If, on the other hand, a child is born to you, then you shall go from here a free man.' "And so the compact was made. Unfortunately or fortunately, as the case may be, the story got abroad, and some indiscreet person carried the news to Dame Littimer. Ill as she was, she insisted upon getting up and going over to Carfax's camp at once. She had barely reached there before--well, long ere Rupert Littimer's probation was over, he was the father of a noble boy. They say that the Roundheads made a cradle for the child out of a leather breastplate, and carried it in triumph round the camp. And they held the furious Carfax to his word, and the story spread and spread until it came to the ears of Prince Rupert. "Then he went to see Dame Littimer, and from his own hand he drew what is known in our family as Prince Rupert's ring. He placed it on Dame Littimer's hand, there to remain for a year and a day, and when the year was up it was to be put aside for the bride of the heir of the house for ever, to be worn by her till a year and a day had elapsed after her first child was born. And that has been done for all time, my aunt, Lady Littimer, being the last to wear it. After Frank was born it was put carefully away for his bride. But the great tragedy came, and until lately we fancied that the ring was lost to us for ever. There is, in a few words, the story of Prince Rupert's ring. So far it is quite common property." Enid ceased to speak for a time. But it was evident that she had more to say. "An interesting story," David said. "And a pretty one to put into a book, especially as it is quite true. But you have lost the ring, you say?"