"But he will start no more burrows," said Marton, when all was at an end. "He never expected that I should find him here, and therefore collected all his treasures. His life is not long enough to enable him to bring together such a collection of things again. Besides, he has not the same wide field for his knaveries. The police are one too many for him now." Marton said this to the vicar, who was deeply shocked to hear of the wickedness of the man from whom he had accepted the cup. "Do you think that sacred vessel was stolen also, Mr Marton?" asked the good man. "I am perfectly sure of it," replied the detective, promptly; "but we have not got the cup down on our list, and no one has come forward to claim it." "It has not been advertised, Mr Marton." "Pardon me, sir, it has been advertised, and by someone in this place. I saw this notice in the _Daily Telegraph_, also in the _Times_. Can you tell me who 'S.T.' is, Mr Tempest?" The vicar took the newspaper handed to him and looked at it in a bewildered manner. He read the notice carefully, but it never struck him that the initials were those of his own daughter. "I really do not know who can have inserted this, Mr Marton," he said. "It seems to be carefully worded, too, and a reward of fifty pounds has been offered. Dear me!" "I have a rival who is investigating the case," said Marton, with a smile. "Is the description accurate, vicar?" "Perfectly; even the inscription. If you will permit me to take this away, Mr Marton, I will see if I can discover who has put it in. I am annoyed that the thing should have been taken out of your hands. But, Mr Marton, before I leave you, let me state to you my conviction that my young friend Leo Haverleigh did not steal the cup." "Ah, indeed, Mr Tempest," said Marton, eyeing the old man keenly. "And what has led you to such a happy conclusion?" "I have no grounds for it save my inward conviction." "There is the story of Mrs Jeal, you know." Mr Tempest looked troubled. "Most remarkable story," he said. "But we have heard of many cases of accidental resemblances, Mr Marton. I fear I have been unjust to Leo, and I wish to withdraw any charge I may have made against him. I heard his defence, and saw his face while he was making it. Unless the face is not the index of the mind, I cannot bring myself to believe that he lied. No, Mr Marton, I cannot give you my reasons, but I am convinced that I misjudged Leo." "Were you prejudiced against him by Mrs Gabriel?" asked Marton, for Leo had told him his suspicions on this point. Mr Tempest hesitated. "I admit that I was," he said at length. "She said something to me which I am not at liberty to repeat." "Does it make Mr Haverleigh out a villain?" "By no means," said the vicar, hastily. "What she told me is sad, but not wicked. More his misfortune than his fault. I can say no more. I can keep this paper, Mr Marton? Thank you, sir. Good-day, good-day!" and the vicar walked away, leaving Marton pondering.