"Quite casually. So far as nearly coming to a rough and tumble with the fellow for his cheek in scoffing our fly at the station const.i.tutes an acquaintance. Gifford acted as peacemaker, and we put up with the fellow's company to the town. But neither of us imbibed a particularly high opinion of the sportsman, did we, Hugh?"

"No," Gifford a.s.sented; "his was not a taking character, to men at any rate; and we rather wondered how he came to be going to the c.u.mberbatch Ball."

"No doubt he got his ticket in the ordinary way," Morriston said.

"It only shows, my dear d.i.c.k," his sister observed, "you may quite easily run risks in giving a semi-public dance in your own house."

Morriston laughed. "Oh, come, Edith," he protested, "we need not make too much of it. We don't know for certain that the man was a queer character."

"One finds objectionable swaggerers everywhere," Painswick put in.

"Anyhow," said Kelson, "if this Henshaw was a bad lot he had the decency to efface himself promptly enough. The puzzle is, what on earth has become of him?"

"I don't know, Mr. Gifford," Morriston said as the two friends were leaving, "whether you would care for a ramble over the old place. A man named Piercy has written to me for permission to go over the house; he is, it appears, writing a book on the antiquities of the county. I have asked him to luncheon to-morrow, and we shall be delighted if you and Kelson will join us as a preliminary to a personally conducted tour of the house. Charlie Tredworth and his sister are coming over for a week's stay, so we shall be quite a respectable party."

Naturally Kelson accepted the invitation with alacrity, and Gifford could do no less than fall in with the arrangement.

"Hope you won't mind going over to Wynford," Kelson said as they drove back. "If it is at all painful to you from old a.s.sociations, I'll make an excuse for you."

Gifford hesitated a moment. "Oh, no," he answered. "I'll come. There is no use in being sentimental about the place going out of our family, and these Morristons are quite the right sort of people to have it. A splendidly thoroughbred type of girl, Miss Morriston."

Kelson laughed. "Oh, yes; a magnificent creature; cut out for a d.u.c.h.ess.

Only, you know, my dear Hugh, if I married a woman like that I should always be a little afraid of her. A magnificent chatelaine and all that, but too cold for my taste."

"You think there is no deep feeling under the ice of her manner?"

"I don't know," Kelson replied, as though the idea was quite novel to him. "Never got so far as to think of that. I like a girl with whom you can get on without going through the process of thawing her first. And with Edith Morriston I should say it would be a slow process. Anyhow, she is just the girl for Painswick, who is evidently after her."

"I should say that with him the ice is a little below the surface,"

Gifford ventured.

Kelson laughed. "You've hit it, Hugh. He's easy enough, but scratch him and you come upon a very straight-laced aristocrat. He and the statuesque Edith Morriston are made for one another."

As they entered the _Golden Lion_ the landlord met them.

"Well, Mr. Dipper, any news of your missing guest?" Kelson inquired with characteristic cheeriness, ignoring the troubled expression on that worthy's face.

"No, captain; and we can't imagine what has happened to Mr. Henshaw.

There are three telegrams come for him, and I have just got one, reply-paid, to ask whether he is staying here."

"And you replied?"

"Went to Hunt Ball 9 last night. Not been here since," Dipper quoted. "It is rather awkward and unpleasant for me, sir," he added uncomfortably.

"Oh, you've no responsibility in the matter," Kelson a.s.sured him. "Don't you worry about it, Mr. Dipper. If the man goes out and does not choose to come back, that, beyond the payment of your charges, can be no affair of yours. Isn't that so, Hugh?"

"Certainly," Gifford a.s.sented.

Still their host looked anything but satisfied.

"Yes, sir, that's quite right; all the same, we are beginning not to like the look of it. It is very mysterious."

"It is, Mr. Dipper, to say the least of it," Kelson replied. "Still from such opinion as we were able to form of Mr. Henshaw I don't think it worth while making much fuss about it. He'll turn up all right and probably call you a fool for your pains."

"I would not worry about it if I were you," Gifford said quietly.

As they turned to go upstairs a telegraph boy came in and handed his message to the landlord, who read it and handed it to Kelson.

"Please wire me without fail directly Mr. Henshaw returns. Gervase Henshaw, 8, Stone Court, Temple, London," Kelson read.

"That's his brother," Gifford observed.

"All right," said Kelson. "Let him worry if he likes. All you have to do, Mr. Dipper, is what he asks you there."

He went upstairs with Gifford, leaving the landlord reperusing the telegram, his plump face dark with misgiving.

CHAPTER V

THE LOCKED ROOM

That night the missing man did not return, nor was anything heard of him.

The morning brought no news, and even Kelson began to think there might be something serious in it.

"If it was anybody but that man," he said casually over a hearty breakfast, "I should say it would be worth while taking steps to find out what had become of him. But that fellow can take care of himself; and when you come to think of it, his coming down here, an outsider, to the ball, was in itself rather fishy."

Gifford agreed, and they fell to discussing the day's plans. Kelson was going to drive over to have the momentous interview with Miss Tredworth's father. He antic.i.p.ated no difficulty there; still, as he said, "The thing has got to be done, and the sooner it is over the better."

"Why not go to-morrow?" Gifford suggested. "There will be rather a rush to-day."

Kelson, a man of action, scoffed at the idea. "Oh, no; Muriel and Charlie are coming over to Wynford to luncheon. I shall simply get the thing settled and drive back with them."

So it was arranged. Gifford spent the morning in a stroll about the familiar neighbourhood, and when luncheon time came they all met at Wynford Place. Miss Morriston was not present. Her brother apologized for her absence, saying she had been obliged to keep an engagement to lunch with a friend, but that she had promised to return quite early in the afternoon. Mr. Piercy, the antiquarian, proved to be by no means as dry as his pursuit suggested. He was a lively little man with a fund of interesting stories furnished by the lighter side of his work, and altogether the luncheon was quite amusing.

When it was over Morriston suggested that, not to waste the daylight, they should begin their tour of the house; he called upon Gifford to share the duties of guidance, and the party moved off.

"Hope you haven't been bored all the morning, Hugh," Kelson said to his friend as they found themselves side by side. "Any news at the _Lion_?

Has Henshaw turned up yet?"

Gifford shook his head. "No. Host Dipper has had another telegram of inquiry from the brother, but had nothing to tell him in return."

Kelson's face became grave. "It really does begin to look serious,"

he remarked.

"Yes; Dipper has been interviewing the police on the subject."