“I wanted to get from him a guarantee for—­for what your lordship knows of; which he had omitted to give, and I had not thought to ask for,” civilly replied the man.  “I was looking about for his lordship on the Tuesday morning, but did not get to see him.  In the afternoon, when the boat-race was over, I made bold to call at Hartledon, but the servants said his lordship wasn’t in.  As I came away, I saw him, as I thought, pass the lodge and go up the road, and I cut after him, but couldn’t overtake him, and at last lost sight of him.  I struck into a tangled sort of pathway through the gorse, or whatever it’s called down here, and it brought me out near the river.  His lordship was just sculling down, and then I knew it was some one else had gone by the lodge, and not him.  Perhaps it was your lordship?”

“You knew it was Lord Hartledon in the boat?  I mean, you recognized him?  You did not mistake him for me?”

“I knew him, my lord.  If I’d been a bit nearer the lodge, I shouldn’t have been likely to mistake even your lordship for him.”

Lord Hartledon was gazing into the man’s face still; never once had his eyes been removed from it.

“You did not see Lord Hartledon later?”

“I never saw him all day but that once when he passed in the skiff.”

“You did not follow him, then?”

“Of what use?” debated the man.  “I couldn’t call out my business from the banks, and didn’t know his lordship was going to land lower down.  I went straight back to Calne, my lord, walking with that man Pike—­who is a rum fellow, and has a history behind him, unless I’m mistaken; but it’s no business of mine.  I made my mind up to another night of it in Calne, thinking I’d get to Hartledon early next morning before his lordship had time to go out; and I was sitting comfortably with a pipe and a glass of beer, when news came of the accident.”

Lord Hartledon believed the man to be telling the truth; and a weight—­the source of which he did not stay to analyse—­was lifted from his mind.  But he asked another question.

“Why are you still in Calne?”

“I waited for orders.  After his lordship died I couldn’t go away without them—­carrying with me nothing but the word of a dead man.  The orders came this morning, safe enough; but I had the summons served on me then to attend the inquest, and had to stay for it.  I’m going away now, my lord, by the first train.”

Lord Hartledon was satisfied, and nodded his head.  As he turned back he met Dr. Ashton.

“I was looking for you, Lord Hartledon.  If you require any assistance or information in the various arrangements that now devolve upon you, I shall be happy to render both.  There will be a good deal to do one way or another; more, I dare say, than your inexperience has the least idea of.  You will have your solicitor at hand, of course; but if you want me, you know where to find me.”

The Rector’s words were courteous, but the tone was not warm, and the title “Lord Hartledon” grated on Val’s ear.  In his impulse he grasped the speaker’s hand, pouring forth a heartfelt prayer.