the truth were known, he did not feel _quite_ so positive as his words
would indicate. Things certainly looked dark for the Dugdale boy.
Hugh, when he came to think over the whole matter, was bound to be
smitten with a grave fear lest the worst come to pass.

"Somehow I seem to have unbounded confidence in your ability to
accomplish the impossible, Hugh Morgan," she told him, which words of
praise thrilled him to the heart, for he was, after all, human and a
boy. "Only good words have come to me about you from all those with
whom I converse; for though you may think it odd in an old woman who
never had a son of her own, I have all my life been interested in other
people's children, particularly boys, seven of whom I have had educated
at my expense. Ah! they are either fighting bravely for the life of
France just now, or else filling patriots' graves in the battle
country."

Hugh asked a few more questions that chanced to occur to him. Then he
prepared to take his leave.

"I will think it all over, ma'am," he remarked, as she gave him her
dainty if wrinkled hand to press, "and like as not I'll conjure up some
scheme by which we can prove whether Owen is innocent or guilty. You
see I could be hidden in that room and a trap set, you sending him word
to call for a package you wished him to deliver. Then if he went out
without even looking into the drawing-room, and yet another of your
spoons disappeared, we'd know to a certainty that the trouble lay
inside this house."

"Hugh, you give me fresh hope!" she cried, with her eyes glistening as
though the tears were trying to flow. "Oh! I would almost pray that