"This," remarked Mr. Cazalette solemnly. "That there isn't anybody of the name of Netherfield buried between Alnmouth and Budle Bay! That's a fact."

"Established," added the police-inspector, "by as an exhaustive inquiry as anybody could make. It is a fact--as Mr. Cazalette says."

"Well," observed Scarterfield, "but Salter Quick may have been wrong in his locality. You can be sure of this--whatever secret he held was got from somebody else. He may have been twenty, thirty, even fifty miles out. But we know something--the Netherfield who was with him on the _Elizabeth Robinson_ hailed from Blyth, in this county. I'm going to Blyth myself--tomorrow; I'll find out if there are Netherfields buried about there. Personally, I believe Miss Raven's. .h.i.t the nail on the head--this is a rough chart of a spot Salter Quick wanted to find--where, no doubt, something is hidden. What? Who knows?

But--judging from the fact that two men have been murdered for the secret of it--something of great value. Buried treasure, no doubt."

"That's precisely what I've been thinking from the very first,"

murmured Mr. Cazalette. "And ye'll have to go back--to go back, my man!"

"It's certainly the only way of going forward," agreed Scarterfield with a laugh. "But now, before we part, gentlemen, let us see where we've got to. I, for myself, have drawn five distinct conclusions about this affair:

"_First_--That the Quicks, Noah and Salter, were in possession of a secret, which was probably connected with their shipmate of the _Elizabeth Robinson_, Netherfield, who hailed from Blyth;

"_Second_--That certain men knew the Quicks to be in possession of that secret and murdered both to get hold of it;

"_Third_--That they failed to get it from either Noah or Salter;

"_Fourth_--That Mr. Cazalette's zeal about the tobacco-box, publicly expressed, put the criminals on a new scent, and that they, in pursuance of it, stole both the tobacco-box and Mr. Cazalette's pocket-book;

"_Fifth_--That the criminals are--or were very recently, in fact, this very morning--in the vicinity of this place.

"So," he continued, looking round, "the thing's narrowing. Let Mr.

Wing there help by getting some news of Chuh Fen, if possible; as for me, I'm going to follow up the Netherfield line. I think we shall track these fellows yet--you never know how unexpectedly a clue may turn up."

"You've not said anything about the handkerchief that I found,"

observed Mr. Cazalette. "There's a clue, surely!"

"Difficult to follow up, sir," replied Scarterfield. "There is such a thing as little articles of that sort being lost at the laundry, put into the wrong basket, and so on. Now if we could trace the owner of the handkerchief and find where he gets his washing done, and a great deal more--you see? But we'll not lose sight of it, Mr.

Cazalette--only, there are more important clues than that to go on in the meantime. The great thing is--what was this precious secret that the Quicks shared, and that certainly had to do with some place here in Northumberland? Let's get at that--if we can."

The two police officials went away with Dr. Lorrimore and his servant, all in deep converse, and the four of us who were left behind endeavoured to settle our minds for the repose of the night. But I saw that Mr. Raven had been upset by the recent talk: he had got it firmly fixed in his consciousness that the murderer of Salter Quick was, as it were, in our very midst.

"How do I know that the guilty man mayn't be one of my own servants?"

he muttered, as he, Mr. Cazalette and I took up our candles. "There are six men in the house--all strangers to me--and several employed outside. The idea's deucedly unpleasant!"

"Ye may put it clear away from you, Raven," said Mr. Cazalette. "The murderer may be within bow-shot, but he's none o' yours. Ye'll look deeper, far, far deeper than that--this is no ordinary affair, and no ordinary men at the bottom of it." Then, when he and I had left our host, and were going along one of the upstairs pa.s.sages towards our own rooms, he added: "No ordinary man, Middlebrook! but you see how ordinary folk are suspicioned! Raven'll be doubting the _bona fides_ of his own footmen and his own garden lads next. No--no! it'll be deeper down than that, my lad!"

"The mystery is deep," I agreed.

"Aye--and I'm wondering if it was well to let yon Chinese fellow into all of it," he muttered significantly. "I'm no great believer in Orientals, Middlebrook."

"Lorrimore answers for him," said I.

"And who answers for Lorrimore?" he demanded. "What do you or I know of Lorrimore? I'm thinking yon Lorrimore was far too glib of his tongue--and maybe I was too ready myself and talked beyond reason to strangers. I don't know Lorrimore--nor his Chinaman."

From which I gathered that Mr. Cazalette himself was not superior to suspicions.

CHAPTER XII

NETHERFIELD BAXTER

However Mr. Raven's nerves may have been wrung by the mysterious events which found place around his recently acquired possessions, nothing untoward or disturbing occurred at Ravensdene Court itself at that time. Indeed, had it not been for what we heard from outside, and for such doings as the visit of the inspector and Scarterfield, the daily life under Mr. Raven's roof would have been regular and decorous almost to the point of monotony. We were all engaged in our respective avocations--Mr. Cazalette with his coins and medals; I with my books and papers; Mr. Raven with his steward, his gardeners, and his various potterings about the estate; Miss Raven with her flowers and her golf.

Certainly there was relaxation--and in taking it, we sorted out each other. Mr. Raven and Mr. Cazalette made common cause of an afternoon; they were of that period of life--despite the gulf of twenty years between them--when lounging in comfortable chairs under old cedar trees on a sunlit lawn is preferable to active exercise; Miss Raven and I being younger, found our diversion in golf and in occasional explorations of the surrounding country. She had a touch of the nomadic instinct in her; so had I; the neighbourhood was new to both; we began to find great pleasure in setting out on some excursion as soon as lunch was over and prolonging our wanderings until the falling shadows warned us that it was time to make for home. What these pilgrimages led to--in more ways than one--will eventually appear.

We heard nothing of Scarterfield, the detective, nor of Wing, pressed into his service, for some days after the consultation in Mr. Raven's dining-room. Then, as we were breakfasting one morning, the post-bag was brought in, and Mr. Raven, opening it, presently handed me a letter in an unfamiliar handwriting, the envelope of which bore the post-mark Blyth. I guessed, of course, that it was from Scarterfield, and immediately began to wonder what on earth made him write to me.

But there it was--he had written, and here is what he wrote:

"NORTH SEA HOTEL,

"BLYTH, NORTHUMBERLAND

"April 23, 1912

"_Dear Sir:_

"You will remember that when we were discussing matters the other night round Mr. Raven's table I mentioned that I intended visiting this town in order to make some inquiries about the man Netherfield who was with the brothers Quick on the _Elizabeth Robinson_. I have been here two days, and I have made some very curious discoveries. And I am now writing to ask you if you could so far oblige and help me in my investigations as to join me here for a day or two, at once? The fact is, I want your a.s.sistance--I understand that you are an expert in deciphering doc.u.ments and the like, and I have come across certain things here in connection with this case which are beyond me. I can a.s.sure you that if you could make it convenient to spare me even a few hours of your valuable time you would put me under great obligations to you.

"Yours truly,

"THOMAS SCARTERFIELD."

I read this letter twice over before handing it to Mr. Raven. Its perusal seemed to excite him.

"Bless me!" he exclaimed. "How very extraordinary! What strange mysteries we seem to be living amongst? You'll go, of course, Middlebrook?"

"You think I should?" I asked.

"Oh, certainly, certainly!" he said with emphasis. "If any of us can do anything to solve this strange problem, I think we should. Of course, one hasn't the faintest idea what it is that the man wants.

But from what I observed of him the other evening, I should say that Scarterfield is a clever fellow--a very clever fellow who should be helped."

"Scarterfield," I remarked, glancing at Miss Raven and at Mr.

Cazalette, who were manifesting curiosity, "has made some discoveries at Blyth--about the Netherfield man--and he wants me to go over there and help him--to elucidate something, I think, but what it is, I don't know."

"Oh, of course, you must go!" exclaimed Miss Raven. "How exciting! Mr.

Cazalette! aren't you jealous already?"

"No, but I'm curious," answered Mr. Cazalette, to whom I had pa.s.sed the letter. "I see the man wants something deciphered--aye, that'll be in your line, Middlebrook. Didn't I tell all of you, all along, that there'd be more in this business than met the eye? Well, I'll be inquisitive to know what new developments have arisen! It's a strange fact, but it is a fact, that in affairs of this sort there's often evidence, circ.u.mstantial, strong, lying ready to be picked up. Next door, as it were--and as it is evidently in this case, for Blyth's a town that's not so far away."

Far away or near away, it took me some hours to get to Blyth, for I had to drive to Alnwick, and later to change at Morpeth, and again at Newsham. But there I was at last, in the middle of the afternoon, and there, on the platform to meet me was the detective, as rubicund and cheerful as ever, and full of grat.i.tude for my speedy response to his request.

"I got your telegram, Mr. Middlebrook," he remarked as we walked away from the station, "and I've booked you the most comfortable room I could get in the hotel, which is a nice quiet house where we'll be able to talk in privacy, for barring you and myself there's n.o.body stopping in it, except a few commercial travellers, and to be sure, they've their own quarters. You'll have had your lunch?"

"While I waited at Morpeth," I answered.