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No doubt, the baronet rejoiced, as well he might, at the honourable acquittal of innocence, and the mysteries of murder now cleared up; he made small secret of his satisfaction at the doom of Jennings; and, as for Bridget Quarles, by all he could learn of her from tenants' wives, and other female dependants, he had no mind to wish her back again, or to think her fate ill-timed: nevertheless, he was even more glad of an occasion to vindicate his own good feelings; and prove to the world that bailiff Simon Jennings was a very opposite character to landlord Sir John Devereux Vincent.
"Well, we are at a dead end," said Quarles. "I think I should go and see Musgrave and ask his opinion of her. It may help us." I went simply because there was nothing else to do, and I felt that I must; be doing something.
His cold-blooded manner left no doubt of his sinister intention, and I felt convinced that Quarles had been trapped just as I had been. Sir Michael laughed again as he bent over me to make sure that my bonds were secure. Then he stood erect suddenly. "Don't move," said a voice, "or I shall fire." He did move, and a bullet ripped into a picture just behind him.
He and Winbush were no doubt working together, and the man's story was no doubt part of an arranged scheme. It seemed to me that the immediate recognition of the second scent was suspicious. The man was probably prepared for the test. I thought it likely that Quarles had met his match this time, and I did not expect to see Richard Lanning at the station. However, he was there with Mr. Nixon.
He had not got very far when Quarles joined me, keen now there was a trail to follow. "I know the gang he used to be friendly with," I said as we began to follow, "although I've got nothing definite against this youngster. It was this gang, I believe, that worked the series of frauds on jewelers three years ago, although we never brought it home to them.
I fancy there is a glimmer of daylight through a grating yonder." I got free from my bonds after a time, and I undid Quarles. The cellar door was a flimsy affair, my shoulder against the lock burst it open at once. No one rushed to prevent our escape. The house was as silent as the grave. "Our captors have decamped," said Quarles. "We must have been hot upon the trail last night, Wigan."
Quarles asked him at once whether he thought that all the passengers, after landing, could be traced if necessary. The captain seemed to consider this rather a tall order, but thought all those who could possibly have had access to Mr. Hardiman might be traced. "It is a pity we cannot forbid any one to land until we like," said the professor.
"Evidently you do not believe that the sailor was mistaken." "We will go on considering Majendie," said Quarles. "Now, when he took up the knife and imitated my action of stabbing the air with it I made a discovery. He did so with his left hand. Since my first mental note concerned a left-handed man the coincidence is surprising. The sailor in his pantomime had used the right hand.
Certainly I did not sleep, and I fought successfully against the hypnotic influence which silence and darkness exert. Not a sound of movement came from Quarles, not a murmur from the world outside. More than once I wanted to ask the professor whether he was all right, but did not do so. It seemed that this utter silence had lasted for hours, when it was broken, not suddenly, but gradually.
He had himself brought them into the room on the morning of the funeral. That cross was one of them. "Ah, it is a pity you didn't bring them in that night. You might have surprised the villains at work." "We were in bed by eleven. Do you imagine they began before that?" "Possibly," said Quarles, as he turned his attention to the coffin.
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