‘No, it would be before your time. A terrible business it was. The _Numidian_ was a big boat, big for those times, I mean. She was running from Glasgow to Quebec, and she struck a berg. Went down off the banks in a few minutes. Nearly every soul on board was lost, and Tom Dale was one of them. A sudden call, it was.’ ‘A terrible affair. I do remember hearing of it.’ ‘Ay, no doubt. A sudden call for Tom, that it was.’ ‘You said he nearly broke a good woman’s heart, Mr Clayton?’ ‘Ay, and so he did. Little Ethel Osborne was fool enough to marry him. And it wasn’t long till she was sorry for it. They say she saw him drunk for the first time the night after the wedding. But it wasn’t the last, not by a long chalk. He was a bad boy all through, was Tom.’ ‘Then his death must have been something of a release to her?’ ‘Yes, poor soul. But she had more sense the second time.’ ‘The second time?’ ‘Ay, she did what she ought to have done at the start—married young William Ponson.’ ‘Never neglect the smallest clue!’ thought Tanner triumphantly, as he recalled his doubt of the wisdom of following up the photograph. The connection between Douglas and Sir William was strengthening. Doubtless he was on the right track at last, and maybe if he questioned him skilfully, this old man would let something drop which would give away the secret. Mr Clayton was glad to talk—the old gentleman seemed lonely—and presently the whole story came out. Substantially it was the same as that Tanner had already heard from Mr Arbuthnot, the late manufacturer’s lawyer. Mr Clayton told of William Ponson’s start in life as office-boy in the Eagle Ironworks of John Howard; of his rapid rise to the position, first of manager, then partner, and finally of sole owner; of his taking his brother John, Cosgrove’s father, into the concern; of their extraordinary prosperity; of William’s municipal life, culminating in his knighthood, and of John’s death, followed by Sir William’s sale of the business, and retirement to Luce Manor. With all of this Tanner was familiar, but he found Mr Clayton was able to give him rather more details of the manufacturer’s family affairs than he had yet learnt. It seemed that when the deceased knight was aged seven-and-twenty, he had fallen deeply in love with a Miss Ethel Osborne, the daughter of a Gateshead doctor. Miss Osborne was a pretty, though not very brilliant girl of some twenty summers, with a placid, pleasure-loving disposition, and a little money. The Dale brothers at this time held positions in the firm, Tom, the elder being a traveller, and his brother Edward a clerk. Tom was a handsome youth with rather fascinating manners. He was considerably below middle height, had delicate features, small and beautifully shaped hands and feet, and dark, passionate eyes.