my aunt about it, she would give me no answer; and as to my uncle,
he cut me short at the very mention of it."

"There is a good reason for that," said I, "for Lord Avon was, as I
have heard, your uncle's best friend; and it is but natural that he
would not wish to speak of his disgrace."

"Tell me the story, Roddy."

"It is an old one now--fourteen years old--and yet they have not got
to the end of it. There were four of them who had come down from
London to spend a few days in Lord Avon's old house. One was his
own young brother, Captain Barrington; another was his cousin, Sir
Lothian Hume; Sir Charles Tregellis, my uncle, was the third; and
Lord Avon the fourth. They are fond of playing cards for money,
these great people, and they played and played for two days and a
night. Lord Avon lost, and Sir Lothian lost, and my uncle lost, and
Captain Barrington won until he could win no more. He won their
money, but above all he won papers from his elder brother which
meant a great deal to him. It was late on a Monday night that they
stopped playing. On the Tuesday morning Captain Barrington was
found dead beside his bed with his throat cut.

"And Lord Avon did it?"

"His papers were found burned in the grate, his wristband was
clutched in the dead man's hand, and his knife lay beside the body."

"Did they hang him, then?"