“Just so.  And do you happen to be able to tell me the old cove’s name and his address, Mollison?” asked Spargo.

“I do, sir.  Which they’ve painted on his entry—­the fifth or sixth as you go down Middle Temple Lane,” answered Mollison.  “Mr. Nicholas Cardlestone, first floor up the staircase.”

Spargo rose from his seat without as much as a look at Breton.

“Come this way, Mollison,” he said.  “We’ll go and see about your little reward.  Excuse me, Breton.”

Breton kicked his heels in solitude for half an hour.  Then Spargo came back.

“There—­that’s one matter settled, Breton,” he said.  “Now for the next.  The Home Secretary’s made the order for the opening of the grave at Market Milcaster.  I’m going down there at once, and I suppose you’re coming.  And remember, if that grave’s empty——­”

“If that grave’s empty,” said Breton, “I’ll tell you—­a good deal.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THE CONTENTS OF THE COFFIN

There travelled down together to Market Milcaster late that afternoon, Spargo, Breton, the officials from the Home Office, entrusted with the order for the opening of the Chamberlayne grave, and a solicitor acting on behalf of the proprietor of the Watchman.  It was late in the evening when they reached the little town, but Spargo, having looked in at the parlour of the “Yellow Dragon” and ascertained that Mr. Quarterpage had only just gone home, took Breton across the street to the old gentleman’s house.  Mr. Quarterpage himself came to the door, and recognized Spargo immediately.  Nothing would satisfy him but that the two should go in; his family, he said, had just retired, but he himself was going to take a final nightcap and a cigar, and they must share it.

“For a few minutes only then, Mr. Quarterpage,” said Spargo as they followed the old man into his dining-room.  “We have to be up at daybreak.  And—­possibly—­you, too, would like to be up just as early.”

Mr. Quarterpage looked an enquiry over the top of a decanter which he was handling.

“At daybreak?” he exclaimed.

“The fact is,” said Spargo, “that grave of Chamberlayne’s is going to be opened at daybreak.  We have managed to get an order from the Home Secretary for the exhumation of Chamberlayne’s body:  the officials in charge of it have come down in the same train with us; we’re all staying across there at the ‘Dragon.’  The officials have gone to make the proper arrangements with your authorities.  It will be at daybreak, or as near it as can conveniently be managed.  And I suppose, now that you know of it, you’ll be there?”

“God bless me!” exclaimed Mr. Quarterpage.  “You’ve really done that!  Well, well, so we shall know the truth at last, after all these years.  You’re a very wonderful young man, Mr. Spargo, upon my word.  And this other young gentleman?”