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Mr. Chatfield desires to discuss these terms. Is that right, Chatfield?" "Quite right, sir," assented the agent. He had been regarding the couple who faced him benevolently and indulgently, and he now raised his hat to them. "Servant, ma'am," he said with a bow to Audrey. "Servant, sir," he continued, with another bow to Copplestone.
Well, now we'll adjourn to Bristol bearing in mind that we're on the track of Peter Chatfield!" Gilling's cheerful optimism was the sort of desirable quality that is a good thing to have, but all the optimism in the world is valueless in face of impregnable difficulty.
You'd better turn all your attention to that, Gilling you and Swallow. As for Chatfield and his daughter, I suppose we shall have to approach the police." Copplestone presently went home to his rooms in Jermyn Street, puzzled and wondering; And there, lying on top of a pile of letters, he found a telegram from Audrey Greyle.
The impression was of dark, sparkling eyes, a mass of darker, highly-burnished hair, bright colour, a flashing vivacious smile, a fine figure, a general air of sprightliness and glowing health this was certainly the sort of personality that would recommend itself to a considerable mass of theatre-goers, and Copplestone, as a budding dramatist, immediately began to cast Addie Chatfield for an appropriate part.
"You all know this is a public footpath. So stand out of our way, or I'll summon every one of you!" The last words were spoken with so much force and decision that the three labourers involuntarily moved aside. But Chatfield hastened to oppose Audrey's progress, planting himself in front of a wicket-gate which there stood across the path, and he laughed sneeringly.
Before Vickers and his companions had recovered from the surprise which this extraordinary cool message had given them, the men had bundled Chatfield across the beach and into the boat and were pulling quickly back to the Pike. Audrey broke the silence with a ringing laugh. "Captain Andrius is certainly the perfection of polite pirates," she exclaimed. "More food more wraps and books and papers!
But they heard nothing of gold or of fugitives or of what the police and detectives were doing until the middle of the afternoon. And then Mr. Elkin, the manager of the bank from which Chatfield had withdrawn the estate and the private balance, came hurrying to the "Angel" and to Mrs. Greyle, his usually rubicund face pale with emotion, his hand waving a scrap of crumpled paper. Mrs.
The fortunes of Joseph Chatfield Alcocke were those of other small farmers of the period, but Mrs. Alcocke could not forget that she was the sister of a college graduate, and it was worth something to her son to know that he was descended from the president of a college.
You were with Marston Greyle when he died you registered his death as Marston Greyle and " Chatfield laughed softly and gave his companion a swift glance out of one corner of his right eye. "And put another name on a bit of a tombstone six months afterwards, what?" he said quietly. "Mr.
"Good!" said Copplestone. "But as regards the Pike, I wonder if you observed something during the few minutes she was here. I'm sure Vickers didn't he was too busy, watching Chatfield." "So was I," replied Audrey. "What was it?" "I believe I'm unusually observant," answered Copplestone. "I seem to see things all at once, don't you know.