United States or Guinea-Bissau ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Of course, me, knowing them moors back o' Scarhaven as I do, it was easy work to make myself scarce on 'em in ten minutes not all the police north o' the Tees could ha' found me a quarter of an hour after I'd hooked it out o' that schoolroom! Well, but the thing then was where to go next?
I never heard of anybody called Greyle except at Scarhaven." "The present Mr. Greyle came from America," said Copplestone. "I know, of course," she answered. "But I never met any Greyles out there. Bassett Oliver may have done, though. I know he toured in a lot of American towns I only went to three New York, Chicago, St. Louis.
He was quickly out of sight of Scarhaven, and in the midst of a solitude.
Of course they've carried off the boxes. Car appears to have gone to Norcaster. Hadn't you better turn?" Sir Cresswell pointed to the Scarhaven police inspector. "Here's news from Scarhaven," he said, bending forward to the other car, "The inspector's just brought it. The Squire whoever he was is dead. They found his body this morning, lying at the foot of a cliff near the Keep.
What do these people mean by carrying us out to sea? Copplestone! with all submission to you whether it's relevant or not, I wish we knew more of that captain chap!" "I know him," remarked Audrey. "I have been on this yacht before. His name is Andrius. He's an American or American-Norwegian, or something like that." "And the crew?" asked Vickers. "Are they Scarhaven men?" "No," replied Audrey.
And it was only natural that he thought more about her than of the strange atmosphere of mystery which wrapped itself around Scarhaven. She, at any rate, was good to think upon, and he thought much as he looked over the letters that had accumulated, changed his clothes, and made ready to go and dine at his club, Already he was counting the hours which must elapse before he would go back to her.
"He's the nominal Squire of Scarhaven, but everybody knows that the real over-lord is Peter Chatfield. Peter Chatfield does everything. And he hates me! He won't have had such a pleasant moment for a long time as he had this morning when he took my key away from me and warned me off." "But why you?" asked Copplestone. "Oh Peter is deep!" she said.
If I was tracked here, I could make my way out at the back of this hole there's a passage here before anybody could climb that rock. However, nobody suspects I'm here. They think that is, that old devil Chatfield and the police they think I'm off to sea. However, here I am and last Sunday afternoon as ever was, I was in Scarhaven! In the wood I was, guv'nor, at the back of the Keep.
And I tell you what's plain too, Copplestone Miss Audrey Greyle is the lady of Scarhaven! Good luck to her! You'll no doubt be glad to communicate the glad tidings!" Copplestone made no answer. He was utterly confounded by the recent revelations and was wondering what the mother and daughter in the little cottage so far away in the grey north would say when all these things were told them.
"Just so but there was one danger-spot which must have given Chatfield and his accomplices a good many uneasy hours," answered Copplestone. "You know that Marston Greyle actually registered in his own name at Falmouth and was known to the land lord and the doctor there." "Yes and Falmouth is three hundred miles from London and five hundred from Scarhaven," replied Gilling dryly.
Word Of The Day