Lord Ellersdeane and Neale left the bank-house and walked towards the police-station. They crossed the Market-Place in silence, but as they turned the corner of the Moot Hall, the elder man spoke, touching his companion's shoulder with a confidential gesture.
"I don't believe a word of all that, Mr. Neale!" he said. "Not one word!"
Neale started and glanced at the Earl's moody face.
"Your lordship doesn't believe—?" he began, and checked himself.
"I don't believe that Horbury's done what those two accuse him of," affirmed the Earl. "Not for one moment! I can't account for those missing securities they talk about, but I'll stake my honour that Horbury hasn't got 'em! Nor my wife's jewels either. You heard and saw how astounded that girl was. By the by—who is she?"
"Mr. Horbury's niece—Miss Fosdyke—from London," replied Neale.
"She spoke of her wealth," remarked the Earl.
"Yes," said Neale. "She must be wealthy, too. She's the sole proprietor of Fosdyke's Brewery."
"Ho-ho!" laughed the Earl. "That's it, eh? Fosdyke's Entire! Of course—I've seen the name on no end of public-houses in London. Sole proprietor? Dear me!—why, I have some recollection that Fosdyke, of that brewery, was at one time a member of Parliament."
"Yes," assented Neale. "He married Mr. Horbury's sister. Miss Fosdyke is their only child. Mr.
