Lionel knew that a report of the turning up of the codicil had travelled to Deerham.  It had never been contradicted.  But he wondered to hear Roy say that Matiss had spoken of it.  Matiss, himself, Tynn, and Mrs. Tynn, were the only persons who could have testified that the supposed codicil was nothing but a glove.  From the finding of that, the story had originally got wind.

“I don’t know why Matiss should have spoken to you on the subject of the codicil,” he remarked to Roy.

“It’s not much that Matiss talks, sir,” was the man’s answer.  “All he said was as he had got the codicil in safe keeping under lock and key.  Just put to Matiss the simplest question, and he’ll turn round and ask what business it is of yours.”

“Quite right of him, too,” said Lionel.  “Have you any news of your son yet, Roy?”

Roy shook his head.  “No, sir.  I’m a-beginning to wonder now whether there ever will be news of him.”

After the man had departed, Lionel looked at his watch.  There was just time for a ride to Deerham Court before dinner.  He ordered his horse, and mounted it, a cheque for three hundred pounds in his pocket.

He rode quickly, musing upon what Matiss had said about the codicil—­as stated by Roy.  Could the deed have been found?—­and Matiss forgotten to acquaint him with it.  He turned his horse down the Belvedere Road, telling his groom to wait at the corner, and stopped before the lawyer’s door.  The latter came out.

“Matiss, is that codicil found?” demanded Lionel, bending down his head to speak.

“What codicil, Mr. Verner?” returned Matiss, looking surprised.

“The codicil.  The one that gave me the estate.  Roy was with me just now, and he said you stated to him that the codicil was found—­that it was safe under lock and key.”

The lawyer’s countenance lighted up with a smile.  “What a meddler the fellow is!  To tell you the truth, sir, it rather pleases me to mislead Roy, and put him on the wrong scent.  He comes here, pumping, trying to get what he can out of me:  asking this, asking that, fishing out anything there is to fish.  I recollect, he did say something about the codicil, and I replied, ’Ay, it was a good thing it was found, and safe under lock and key.’  He tries at the wrong handle when he pumps at me.”

“What is his motive for pumping at all?” returned Lionel.

“There’s no difficulty in guessing at that, sir.  Roy would give his two ears to get into place again; he’d like to fill the same post to you that he did to the late Mr. Verner.  He thinks if he can hang about here and pick up any little bit of information that may be let drop, and carry it to you, that it might tell in his favour.  He would like you to discover how useful he could be.  That is the construction I put upon it.”

“Then he wastes his time,” remarked Lionel, as he turned his horse.  “I would not put power of any sort into Roy’s hands, if he paid me in diamonds to do it.  You can tell him so, if you like, Matiss.”