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Lindsey, who had listened attentively to all this. "He was there three weeks ago," replied Hollins. "And Edinburgh?" suggested Mr. Lindsey. "He went regularly to Edinburgh at one time twice a week," said the butler. And then, Mr. Lindsey not making any further remark, he glanced at him and at Mr. Portlethorpe. "Of course, gentlemen," he continued, "this is all between ourselves.
Lindsey here, again, was going to be more work of the ferreting-out sort. But Mr. Portlethorpe, it was clear, had no taste for mysteries, and no great desire to forsake his own bed, even for Mr. Lindsey's hospitality, and it needed insistence before he consented to go back to Berwick with us.
If you've read all the stuff that's been in the papers, and add to it just what we've told you about this last adventure with the yacht, you can't doubt it, either." "It's very, very strange all of it," agreed Mr. Portlethorpe. "Have you no theory, Lindsey?" "I've a sort of one," answered Mr. Lindsey.
"And before I let it out, I think we'd better fully inform Mrs. Ralston of everything that's happened, and of how things stand, up to and including this moment. This is the position, Mrs. Ralston, and the facts" and he went on to give his caller a brief but complete summary of all that he and Mr. Portlethorpe had just talked over.
"If we can lay hands on him, you'll be hearing his version from the dock!" retorted Mr. Lindsey. "Your natural love of letting things go smoothly, Portlethorpe, is leading you into strange courses! Man alive! take a look at the whole thing from a dispassionate attitude!
Portlethorpe had already taken their night-caps while they talked, and when he had bestowed the senior visitor in his room, he came to me in mine, carrying an alarm clock which he set down at my bed-head. "Hugh, my man!" he said, "you'll have to stir yourself an hour before Mr. Portlethorpe and me. I've set that implement for five o'clock.
No man could have been in possession of those documents unless he'd been the real man the absolute Simon Pure! Why, my dear lady, he produced letters written by yourself, when you were a little girl and and all sorts of little private matters. It's impossible that there has been any imposture a a reflection on me!" "Cleverer men than you have been taken in, Portlethorpe," remarked Mr. Lindsey.
It was presently settled that Mr. Portlethorpe and Mr. Lindsey should go off to Newcastle by the next train to see the bank manager. Mr. Lindsey insisted that I should go with them he would have no hole-and-corner work, he said, and I should tell my own story to the man we were going to see, so that he would know some of the ground of our suspicion. Mrs. Ralston supported that; and when Mr.
Lindsey was sharp enough of his wits even at that hour, and before we set off from Berwick he wrote out a telegram to Mr. Gavin Smeaton, asking him to meet us in Edinburgh during the day, so that Mr. Portlethorpe might make his acquaintance. This telegram he left with his housekeeper to be dispatched as soon as the post-office was open.
Portlethorpe, who was sharp enough of observation, saw this, and made haste to step into the arena. "Mr. Lindsey," he said, "has been much upset by the apparently extraordinary circumstances of Sir Gilbert Carstairs' disappearance and so, I may say, has Sir Gilbert's sister, Mrs. Ralston. I have pointed out that Sir Gilbert himself may have probably has a quite proper explanation of his movements.
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