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Lindsey having brought the letter and the will with him. Deep, at any rate, Mr. Lindsey and Mr. Portlethorpe were; as for Mr. Gavin Smeaton, he appeared to be utterly amazed at the suggestion which Mr. Lindsey threw out to him that the father of whom he knew so little was, in reality, Michael Carstairs. "Do you know what it is you're suggesting, Lindsey?" demanded Mr. Portlethorpe, suddenly.
"Where else should it be? He has not yet made the purchase he contemplated, so of course the necessary funds are waiting until he does. I cannot but think that you and Mr. Lindsey are mistaken, and that there will be some proper and adequate explanation of all this, and " "Portlethorpe!" exclaimed Mr. Lindsey, "that's no good. Things have gone too far.
His recent conduct is something more than suspicious no one can deny that he left my clerk there to drown, without possibility of help! That's intended murder! And so I ask, What do you, his solicitor, know of him his character, his doings during the thirty years he was away? And you answer nothing!" "Just so!" assented Mr. Portlethorpe. "And nobody does hereabouts.
Do you understand that?" "The proper course to adopt!" said Mrs. Ralston. "The one thing to do. It must be done!" "Oh, very well then in that case I suppose I'd better go with you," said Mr. Portlethorpe. "Of course, it's no use going to the bank they'll be closed; but we can, as you say, go privately to the manager.
Portlethorpe; and they both came to a dead halt, staring. And both rapped out the same inquiry, in identical words: "Some news?" I looked as eagerly at the butler as they did.
"Nobody hereabouts, at any rate," replied Mr. Portlethorpe. "Neither his father, nor his sister, nor ourselves had heard of him for many a long year. But he called on us within twenty-four hours of his father's death." "With proof, of course, that he was the man he represented himself to be?" asked Mr. Lindsey. "Oh, of course full proof!" answered Mr. Portlethorpe.
Portlethorpe listened attentively to the end. And without making any comment he said three words: "Well your questions?" "The first," answered Mr. Lindsey, "is this How long is it since you saw or heard from Sir Gilbert Carstairs?" "A week by letter," replied Mr. Portlethorpe. "The second," continued Mr. Lindsey, "is much more important much!
I took it that he had come in to see me in the ordinary way," replied the stockbroker. "He wasn't here ten minutes. I had no idea whatever that anything had happened." "Before we go any further," said Mr. Lindsey, "may I ask you to tell us what he came for? You know that Mr. Portlethorpe is his solicitor? I am asking the question on his behalf as well as my own."
And," he added, with a significant look at Mr. Lindsey, "I think you'd better go to Edinburgh and find out who Mr. John Paley is." Mr. Portlethorpe got up, looking very white and frightened. "How much of all that money is there left in your hands?" he asked, hoarsely. "Not more than a couple of thousand," answered the bank manager with promptitude.
"I do!" answered Mr. Lindsey. "Holmshaw and Portlethorpe of Newcastle. Here," he went on, passing a telegram form to me. "Write out this message: 'Sir Gilbert and Lady Carstairs are both missing from Hathercleugh under strange circumstances please send some authorized person here at once. Sign that with my name, Hugh and take it to the post-office, and come back here." When I got back, Mr.
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