The Moon Rock

his life's task. The long hand of the mantelpiece clock slipped with a stealthy movement past the t

her and sister knew much of his story by heart. It had formed the sole theme of his letters to them for many years past. Mrs. Pendleton's thoughts wandered to afternoon tea. Her husband nodded with closed eyes, and recovered himself with convulsive

That was apparent as Robert Turold related the history of his long and patient investigation; of scents which had led nowhere; of threads which had broken in his hand; o

lders of the title were summoned to Parliament in their turn until the reign of the seventh Henry, when one succeeded whose wife brought him three daughters, but no sons. At his death the title went into abeyance among this plurality of girls. In peerage law they were his

rs before his elder brother's death. Little was known of him except that he was supposed to have closed a brawling

kinship with the last Lord Turrald of Great Missenden. But he had not dared to claim the title and rich estates on his brother's death, because he was a proscribed man. He had been a Yorkist, and had fought for Richard. That might have been forgiven him if he had not

ic, without territorial ties or wealth, without continuance of chronology. They could not trace their own genealogy back for two hundred years. There was a great gap of missing generations which had never been filled in. It was not even known how t

ould. In his hands, the slender supposition had been turned into certainty. By immense labour and research he built a bridge from the first Turold of whom any record existed, backwards across the dark gap of the past. He traced the wanderings

has no traditions; Robert Turold had to trace his back to the darkness of the Middle Ages. It was a notable feat to trace the wanderings of an obscure family back so far as he did, but even then he seemed as far away from the attainment of his desire as ever.

ed him to Cornwall, but it was the hand of Providence (he said so) which directed his footsteps to the churchtown in which Dr. Ravenshaw lived. It was there he discovered the connecting link in the signature of a single witness on a noble c

gnature was indeed Simon Turrald's; not the younge

y at St. Fair, a branch of the great priory of St. Germain. The holy fathers of the order had long since vanished from this earth to reap the reward of their goodness (it is to be hoped) in another world, but the remains of the priory still stood on a barren headland near Cape Cornwall. And there was a

ght to light that Simon's other son, Robert, left Cornwall as a young man, and after some years of wandering had settled in Suffolk. Father Simon, of course, died without family, but R

urold's life quest, and the story

ld, younger brother of the last baron, and there are no coheirs in existence. Ours is the last surviving branch, or it would, perhaps, be better if I said that Austin and myself, and Austin's son, are the only male members of the family. It is a difficult matter to give effectual proof of a long pedigree, but my lawyer has not t

l, and his harsh sallow features took on an expression which was almost ecstatic. It was his great moment, the moment for which he had lived f

he said, and again the expression of hi

is audience from behind his pile of documents. It was like a sister, at that moment, to slip back to the juvenile name an

ocratic to give him a sneaking admiration for a title. He gazed at his brother-in-law w

family name?" observed Dr. Ravenshaw. "The House of L

n he settled in Suffolk. Turrald is the corrupted form, doubtless due to early Saxon difficulties with Norman names. Th

fled to Cornwall after Bosworth. The name is Biblical-not Norman. The Normans were pagan, worshipping

and from the twelfth century until after the Reformation. It was Norman,

the Turrald estates," put in Austin.

nturies. But it has been part of my life's work to provide for the upkeep of the title when I

f the fortune her brother had gained abroad. "Eight thou

eight thousand a year," remarked her

e tax and super-tax," said Austin. "Robert, with his iron frame, will probably outlive a weakling l

rold. "This is a barony by writ that you are claiming. Does not

older of the title, after me, will be my

looked questioningly

ty I have deemed it my duty to make myself acquainted, to some extent, with the history of the Turrald title and peerage law. It seems a very complicated business-peerage

title," rejoined Robert Turold. The words

reading that the right of a single daughter to succeed to a barony by writ had been well established by the Clifton case and several others. I am not precisely aware what the Clifton case is, but I've no doubt that you are

nough," said Robert Turold, "but my d

y n

deepened on Robert Turold's face. He re

marriage," said he at last. "My

e is illegitimate?"

clined his head.

d cry. "So that was why there was no name plate on the coffin," s

ard-"was married before she met me. She kept the fact from me. It was apparently a secret passage in her life. During our long association tog

to fill in the picture of the unhappy woman who had gone through life tormented by the twin demons of conscien

of cowardice which dictates death-bed confessions, regretted that A

e this scandal public, Ro

o do so," was the

-if not for Alice's sake, at least for Sisily's? You must consi

window-seat and approached the table. "Sisily must be you

with you, Charles," in

s son. "You told me nothi

of it myself," re

her to do with this," continued the young m

moral sentiments from you," sa

the jibe. He appeared to be about to say something more, b

this matter quiet, Robert?"

ery painful disclosure, but I think it is i

is brother coldly replied.

ound at the silent figure of the doctor. "I asked you to be present this afternoon t

with Mrs. Pendleton. Your first duty is to Sisily. She should out-weigh all other conside

lance at the speaker, but Austin Turold

umane views of his sister and Dr. Ravenshaw were powerless to affect his decision. The monstrous growth of his si

would be an insult to my Sovereign and my peers, and a grievous wrong to our family, if I concealed any portion of the truth.

eed somebody to take care of her, poor child! But who is

is no immediate hurry, but she must be in no false hopes about the fu

Committee!" exclaimed Mrs.

pair of eyes encountering her own through a crack in the doorway, and as swiftly withdrawn. She

oor open," she said, returning to her seat. "I

doors," said Robert Turold cold

strong belief that someone had been watchi

oseph"-such was her husband's name-"you had better go and see if the car

ractedly over his papers. "But you had better as

gh to forbear from further speech. She instinctively re

She came downstairs again and proceeded to the kitchen. Through the ha

re Miss Sisily is, T

e, made answer without looking up. There was something absurdly incongruous

sked Mrs. Pendleton, str

long glance at her. "It mig

here I am like

vaguely through

er you'd best not go round by the back of the house, or you'll fall over, like as not. It's a savag

sage to the front door. There her eye fell on the figure of Cha

ng and looking for Sisily?" she said. "She is out on the cliffs, Thalass

ainly," he replied. "I'll go with pleasure." He tossed away