"About the cup," said Raston, returning the letter to his pocket. "I suppose he is about to give it back to us again. Not that it will ever be used again for so sacred a purpose. I shall take it and return it to Lord Kilspindie. That is only right, as the cup was stolen from him." "Ah, I forgot! You think that Pratt has the cup?" said Leo. "He has. Do you not remember the letter he wrote to Marton saying he had stolen the cup and again had it in his possession?" "I remember; but that was one of Pratt's fairy tales." "How do you know?" asked Raston, astonished. "Has he written to you?" "No. I have seen him." "In London?" "In Colester." Raston pushed back his chair and stared at his friend. "When did you see him in Colester?" he asked, open-mouthed. "A few days ago." Leo pondered for a moment while Raston stared at him. He wondered if it would not be as well to make a confidant of the curate, and ask his advice. The secret was rapidly becoming too much for him to bear alone. Raston was his friend, a good fellow, and a wise young man. Certainly it would be well to confide in him. Leo made up his mind. "I have to tell you something that will astonish you. I speak in confidence, Raston." "Anything you tell me will be sacred," replied the curate, with dignity. Leo nodded, quite satisfied with this assurance. Then he related all that had taken place in the castle on that night when he had discovered Mrs Gabriel and Pratt in company. Raston fairly gasped with surprise as the recital proceeded, and when Leo confessed that Pratt claimed him as a son he sprang from his seat. "I don't believe a word of it!" he cried, bringing his fist down on the table. "The man is a vile liar. Whomsoever you may be, Leo, you are certainly not the son of this wretch. Can a bad tree bear good fruit? No." "But he can give me proofs." "He has not done so yet. Let me speak to him, Leo. I may be able to get more out of him than you. I am your friend, you know that! so if you will place the matter in my hands, I promise to find out the truth somehow." "Well," said Leo, with some hesitation, "I rather thought of coming with you to London. Pratt expects me." "He has not written to that effect," said Raston. "I tell you, Leo, the man is dangerous and unscrupulous. The fact that he claims you as his son will prevent you dealing freely with him. I can manage him better myself. You go back to Colester and Miss Tempest. It is but right that you should do what she wishes, as she has held by you in your time of trouble. Besides, I quite approve of her wish to introduce you to Lord Kilspindie. And if--oh!--" Raston stopped short. "What's the matter, Raston?" "Suppose you should be the long-lost son of Lord Kilspindie?" "Ridiculous!" said Leo, shaking his head and flushing.