the village beside, who had got wind of the strange happenings at the Castle and had crowded in through the now undefended gate.
It was a glorious treasure—gold and silver plate, jewels and beautiful armour, along with a pile of old parchments which Mr. Roscoe said were worth more than all the rest put together, for they were the title-deeds of great estates.
"And now," cried Beale, "let's 'ave a cheer for Lord Arden. Long may 'e enjoy 'is find, says I! 'Ip, 'ip, 'ooray!"
The cheers went up, given with a good heart.
"I thank you all," said the father of Edred and Elfrida. "I thank you all from my heart. And you may be sure that you shall share in this good fortune. The old lands are in the market. They will be bought back. And every house on Arden land shall be made sound and weather-tight and comfortable. The Castle will be restored—almost certainly. And the fortunes of Arden's tenantry will be the fortunes of Arden Castle."
Another cheer went up. But the speaker raised his hand, and silence waited his next words.
"I have something else to tell you," he said, "and as well now as later. This gentleman, Mr. Roscoe, my solicitor, has this morning brought me news that I am not Lord Arden!"
Loud murmurs of dissatisfaction from the crowd.
"I have no claim to the title," he went on grimly; "my father was a younger son—the
