"Ark is waiting in the kitchen," said Rupert, after a quiet word with the pompous butler. "He came at six and has stayed on. There is no hurry for you to go, Mr. Leigh. Remember you have something to tell me," and Hendle, taking the old man's arm, led him gently but firmly into the drawing room.
"Something to tell you," repeated the vicar puzzled; then suddenly his face cleared. "Oh, dear me, yes; how fortunate you reminded me, Rupert. It has to do with John Hendle."
"John Hendle. Do you mean my great-great-grandfather----"
"Who died in the Waterloo year. Yes, I do. When we are alone,"--Mr. Leigh broke off and glanced meaningly at the footman who was bringing in the coffee. "It is lucky you reminded me," he ended aimlessly, "very lucky. My expedition, ah yes, this hangs on that and that on this."
"What on earth are you talking about?" questioned Hendle, much vexed at all this unnecessary mystery. "Sit down and drink your coffee and tell me all about it. You don't smoke, I know, but I shall."
"Certainly, certainly," murmured Leigh vaguely, "of course, your marriage with your cousin will bring together the two branches of the family. That, in the long run, will put things right."
Hendle echoed the word and stared. "I wish you would talk plainly," he said, with some irritation.
"Oh, certainly. I am rather apt to wander in worldly matters." Leigh cleared his throat and sat up briskly with all his wits about him for once in his dreamy life. "Mallien is descended from Walter Hendle, and you from Frederick Hendle, their father John being your common ancestor."
"Yes, that is so. But Mallien descends through the female line, although he is the elder branch of the family."
"No. If there was, it would be in my favor, as I descend through the male heirs. But what does all this mean?"
"I shall tell you if you will allow me to collect my thoughts. While searching in the Muniment Room, Rupert, I came across letters of John Hendle, which show that he loved his elder son Walter and greatly disliked his younger son Frederick. Walter was a brave man, who fought for his country and who died at Waterloo. Frederick, as the letters say, was a scamp--what in those days was known as a blood. Reckless, extravagant and evil, he alienated his father's affections, and John Hendle desired to disinherit him."