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Updated: June 13, 2025
"What are you after, Chatfield?" he asked at length. "Something, of course. You say you want to come to terms with Miss Greyle. That, of course, is because you know very well that Miss Greyle is the legal owner of Scarhaven, and that " Chatfield waved his pipe. "I don't!" he answered, with what seemed genuine eagerness. "I don't know naught of the sort. I tell you, Mr.
He was turning away from the top of the cliff after a long and careful inspection, when he caught sight of a man's figure crossing the rocky slope between him and this far-off point. That, he said to himself, was Chatfield. Did Chatfield know of any place at that point visited by fishing craft from the other islands? Had Chatfield ever been in the Orkneys before?
What but you've got some notion in your mind?" he broke off suddenly, seeing her glance at him again. "What is it?" Audrey shook her head, with a cautious look at Chatfield. "I was wondering if that's the Pike? come back!" she whispered. "And if it is why?" Copplestone started, and took a longer and keener look at the vessel.
Copplestone suddenly recognized that feminine instinct had solved a problem which masculine reason had so far left unsolved. "By gad!" he exclaimed softly. "Then, if that is so, this is merely another of Chatfield's games. You don't believe him?" "I would think myself within approachable distance of lunacy if I believed a word that Peter Chatfield said," she answered calmly.
The School of Haydon was first instituted with three distinguished pupils in the persons of the three Landseer brothers, to whom were afterwards added William Bewick, Eastlake, Harvey, Lance, and Chatfield.
"You have seen them together." "If that's so," said Copplestone, "I shall begin to think there is something queer about the Squire in the way your mother suggests. It looks as if Chatfield had a hold on him. And in that case "
"Now then, my man, quick I always keep my word!" "Hand the stick to Mr. Marston Greyle, Mr. Copplestone," said Audrey in her demurest manner. "I'm sure he would beat Chatfield soundly if he had heard what he said to me his cousin." "Thank you, but I'm in possession," said Copplestone, grimly. "Mr. Marston Greyle can kick him when I've thrashed him.
"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.
Chatfield, what has the Pike come back for?" repeated Audrey, coming nearer. "Come now hadn't you better tell?" "It is the Pike," remarked Copplestone. "Look there! And they're going to send in a boat. Better be quick, Chatfield." The agent turned an ashen face towards the yacht.
"Marston Greyle," he said, presently, "or his agent, Peter Chatfield, or both, in common agreement, are already doing something to solve the mystery so far as Greyle's property is concerned. They've closed the Keep and its surrounding ruins to the people who used to be permitted to go in, and they're conducting an exhaustive search for Bassett Oliver, of course." Gilling made a grimace.
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