Their progress, however, was not the usual light-hearted saunter enlivened by merry jokes and laughter.  The lanes were fragrant as ever, the air was full of larks and sunshine, but the cloud had risen and overshadowed them, and Graeme guessed why Charles had come.  There was something he wanted to discuss with them alone, out of the hearing of his mother and Lady Elspeth.

He was not surprised—­when they had scrambled down into Port du Moulin, and had passed through the arch, and were sitting on the rocks above the first of the sea-gardens,—­when Charles said, “There’s something I want to consult you about, and I couldn’t do it at the house, as I want it kept to ourselves.  I got this, this morning.  Will you read it?” and he handed Graeme a letter.  Graeme opened it and read it out.

   “99A HIGH STREET, ALDERNEY.

“MY DEAR CHARLES,—­I will not at the moment attempt any explanation of the calamity which has befallen our house.  If you knew all, you would not blame me as I fear you must be doing.  Let me say, however, that I have every reason to hope that in course of time I may be able to redeem the position by making good all deficiencies and so clearing our name of reproach.  To do so, I must get away—­to Spain in the first instance, and for that I need your assistance.  The end came unexpectedly and took me unawares, and I am almost penniless here.  In asking your help, I do so the more confidently as, in the path I have indicated, lies the only hope of redemption.  In assisting me you will not only be doing what a prosperous son might reasonably be expected to do for his father in his day of misfortune, but you will be acting for the general weal in putting me into a position to make good what I have all unwittingly become responsible for, and to that sacred end the remainder of my life shall be most solemnly dedicated.

“I came here from Cherbourg, and am for the moment safe from oversight.  As soon as you place me in position to do so, I shall get away and begin my new life-work, which I am earnestly desirous of doing at the earliest possible moment.

   “Address me as above—­Revd.  J. Peace.

   “Your affectionate FATHER.”

Graeme kept the humorous wrinkles about his eyes and mouth in order with difficulty as he read this very characteristic effusion, but Margaret was the only one who saw it.  Charles had kept his eyes intently on the pool below, and Miss Penny had been regarding him sympathetically.

“What do you make of it?” said Charles.  “It makes me sick.”

“He evidently needs your help,” said Miss Penny.

“Yes, but have I the right to give it him?  That’s the question.”

“He says——­” began Graeme.

“Oh, he says!” growled Charles.  “Trouble is, he’s been saying for the last twenty years, and it has all been a lie.  This is probably all a lie too.  Not all”—­he added grimly.  “As I read it, he has got funds stowed away somewhere and he’s anxious to get to them.”