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Updated: June 24, 2025
Swallow, of course, couldn't wait every minute was precious. He followed the Squire to King's Cross, and heard him book for Northborough." "Northborough!" exclaimed Copplestone, in surprise. "Not Norcaster? Ah, well, Northborough's a port, too, isn't it?" "Northborough is as near to Scarhaven as Norcaster is, you know," said Gilling. "To Northborough he booked, anyhow.
Six months later, on a fine evening which came as the fitting close of a perfect May afternoon, Brereton got out of a London express at Norcaster and entered the little train which made its way by a branch line to the very heart of the hills.
I was to take two men straight and slick into Norcaster, to this here very slip, Scarvell's Cut, to wait while they put a bit of a cargo on board, and then to run 'em back to the same spot where I took 'em up. Done! they come aboard the yacht goes off east I come careenin' west. That's all! That part of it anyway." "And the men?" suggested the detective. "What sort were they, and where are they?"
I daresay that's what he did yesterday. You see, all last week we were at Northborough. That, like Norcaster, is a coast town there's fifty miles between them. If he followed out his usual plan he'd probably hire a motor-car and follow the coast-road, and if he came to any place that was of special interest, he'd stop there.
"Look here! they came up the hill at the side of the wood here they backed the car towards that gate, and then ran it backwards till they were abreast of the tower then, when they'd loaded up with those chests they went straight off by the way they'd come. Look at the tracks plain enough." "Then we'd better get down towards Norcaster ourselves," said Copplestone.
But Harborough refused to do anything towards that, and when the case had been adjourned for a week, and the prisoner removed to a cell pending his removal to Norcaster gaol, a visit from Brereton and Avice in company failed to move him. "It's no good, my girl; it's no good, sir," he said, when both had pleaded with him to speak. "I'm determined! I shall not say where I was last night."
Bassett Oliver, who was opening for the week at Norcaster in his latest success, and who, not quite satisfied with the way in which a particular bit of it was being played called a special rehearsal for a quarter to one. Everything and everybody was ready for that rehearsal, but the great man himself had not arrived. Now Mr.
A telephone message from Rothwell had just come to the theatre when they drove up to it nothing had so far been heard of the missing man at Norcaster either at theatre or hotel. Stafford and Copplestone hurried across to the "Golden Apple" and interviewed its proprietor; he, keenly interested in the affair, could tell no more than that Mr.
Never mind what for I was there. And at precisely ten minutes to three o'clock I saw Bassett Oliver." "How did you know him?" demanded Copplestone. "Cause I've had many a sixpenn'orth of him at both Northborough and Norcaster," answered Spurge. "Seen him a dozen times, I have, and knew him well enough, even if I'd only viewed him from the the-ayter gallery.
As to my brother's business arrangements, I will go fully into that matter with you, Mr. Stafford, at Norcaster, tomorrow. Now, Mr. Copplestone, will you have a word or two with me in private?" Copplestone followed the old seaman into a quiet corner of the room, where Sir Cresswell turned on him with a smile.
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