The hand that had rested on the buckle of his sword-belt slipped quietly to his side, and he deliberately stepped up to Gregory, his eyes set searchingly upon the pale, flabby face before him.

A sudden suspicion darting through his mind, he took his brother by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.
"Gregory, you fool, you have drunk overdeep in my absence." "I have, I have," wailed Gregory, "and, my God, 'twas he was my table-fellow, and set me the example." "Like enough, like enough," returned Joseph, with a contemptuous laugh.
"My poor Gregory, the wine has so fouled your worthless wits at last, that they conjure up phantoms to sit at the table with you.

Come, man, what petticoat business is this?
Bestir yourself, fool." At that Gregory caught the drift of Joseph's suspicions.
"Tis you are the fool," he retorted angrily, springing to his feet, and towering above his brother.
"It was no ghost sat with me, but Roland Marleigh, himself, in the flesh, and strangely changed by time.

So changed that I knew him not, nor should I know him now but for that which, not ten minutes ago, I overheard." His earnestness was too impressive, his sanity too obvious, and Joseph's suspicions were all scattered before it.
He caught Gregory's wrist in a grip that made him wince, and forced him back into his seat.
"Gadslife, man, what is it you mean ?" he demanded through set teeth.
"Tell me." And forthwith Gregory told him of the manner of Kenneth's coming to Sheringham and to Castle Marleigh, accompanied by one Crispin Galliard, the same that had been known for his mad exploits in the late wars as "rakehelly Galliard," and that was now known to the malignants as "The Tavern Knight" for his debauched habits.

Crispin's mention of Roland Marleigh on the night of his arrival now returned vividly to Gregory's mind, and he repeated it, ending with the story that that very evening he had overheard Kenneth telling Cynthia.
"And this Galliard, then, is none other than that pup of insolence, Roland Marleigh, grown into a dog of war ?" quoth Joseph.
He was calm--singularly calm for one who had heard such news.
"There remains no doubt of it." "And you saw this man day by day, sat with him night by night over your damned sack, and knew him not?
Oddswounds, man, where were your eyes ?" "I may have been blind.