Glassdale, who had looked somewhat mystified at the beginning of this address, seemed to understand matters better by the end of it.

“Oh, well, of course, doctor,” he said, “if that’s it—­but, of course—­a word first!—­these folk here at the inn don’t know who I am or that I’ve any connection with the Duke on that affair.  I’m Mr. Gordon here—­just staying for a bit.”

“That’s all right,” answered Bryce with a smile of understanding.  “All this is between ourselves.  I saw you with the Duke and the rest of them last night, and I recognized you just now.  And all I want is a bit of talk about Braden.  You knew him pretty well of late years?”

“Knew him for a good many years,” replied Glassdale.  He looked narrowly at his visitor.  “I suppose you know his story—­and mine?” he asked.  “Bygone affairs, eh?”

“Yes, yes!” answered Bryce reassuringly.  “No need to go into that—­that’s all done with.”

“Aye—­well, we both put things right,” said Glassdale.  “Made restitution—­both of us, you understand.  So that is done with?  And you know, then, of course, who Braden really was?”

“John Brake, ex bank-manager,” answered Bryce promptly.  “I know all about it.  I’ve been deeply interested and concerned in his death.  And I’ll tell you why.  I want to marry his daughter.”

Glassdale turned and stared at his companion.

“His daughter!” he exclaimed.  “Brake’s daughter!  God bless my soul!  I never knew he had a daughter!”

It was Bryce’s turn to stare now.  He looked at Glassdale incredulously.

“Do you mean to tell me that you knew Brake all those years and that he never mentioned his children?” he exclaimed.

“Never a word of ’em!” replied Glassdale.  “Never knew he had any!”

“Did he never speak of his past?” asked Bryce.

“Not in that respect,” answered Glassdale.  “I’d no idea that he was—­or had been—­a married man.  He certainly never mentioned wife nor children to me, sir, and yet I knew Brake about as intimately as two men can know each other for some years before we came back to England.”

Bryce fell into one of his fits of musing.  What could be the meaning of this extraordinary silence on Brake’s part?  Was there still some hidden secret, some other mystery at which he had not yet guessed?

“Odd!” he remarked at last after a long pause during which Glassdale had watched him curiously.  “But, did he ever speak to you of an old friend of his named Ransford—­a doctor?”

“Never!” said Glassdale.  “Never mentioned such a man!”

Bryce reflected again, and suddenly determined to be explicit.

“John Brake, the bank manager,” he said, “was married at a place called Braden Medworth, in Leicestershire, to a girl named Mary Bewery.  He had two children, who would be, respectively, about four and one years of age when his—­we’ll call it misfortune—­happened.  That’s a fact!”