"She returned my letter unopened. She did not deign to read a word."

"Yes, and it was quite natural; but give her breathing s.p.a.ce, old man.

She's a proud girl, you know that, and well--she would not listen to reason. But through to-night she'll be lonely. She'll be thinking of the past. She'll recall many things which hadn't occurred to her in her anger. To-morrow, mark my word, she'll be longing to see you."

The waiter came, bringing a bottle of whisky, and placed it on the table, but Leicester did not touch it.

Winfield sent the waiter away on some trifling commission, and then he went on:

"If I were you, I would not start drinking to-night. You might be mistaken, you know, and if you are----"

Leicester rose to his feet hurriedly.

"I can't eat, Winfield, and I can't sit down to the mockery of a dinner.

I'm going somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Probably to throw myself in the Thames. Sorry to be such a fool, old man. A good appet.i.te to you."

He rushed out of the club, and did not return till past midnight; but when he returned he showed no signs of drinking.

The next morning he started for The Beeches again.

CHAPTER XII

THE LAST LINK BROKEN

By ten o'clock Leicester was at the door of John Castlemaine's house.

Any one who had seen him on his way from London the previous morning would not have recognised him as the same man. For one thing he looked at least ten years older. His face was haggard, his eyes were dull, he walked with a kind of hesitation. The grounds were deserted, no one was anywhere visible.

He rang the door bell, and a minute later the door was opened by the old servant who had appeared the day before.

"Is Miss Castlemaine at home?"

"No, sir."

"Come, now, that is a polite figment. You mean that she is not at home to me."

"I mean what I say, sir; she is not at home."

"And Mr. Castlemaine?"

"He's not at home either, sir."

"Do you mean to say they are gone away?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Come, now, no more of your lies," he said. "You know very well. Tell me, I'll make it worth your while."

He felt angry with himself for speaking in this way, but he had lost his self-control.

"I don't know, sir," repeated the man.

"When did they go?"

"Last night, sir."

"What time?"

"I didn't notice, sir," and he prepared to close the door.

"Come now, you are not to get away like this. Listen to me a minute longer." He spoke in his old tone of command, and the man instinctively felt like obeying.

"You say they went away last night. Was it late?"

"Yes, sir--that is, I didn't notice the time."

"But late?"

"Yes, sir--that is, I should think so; but as I said----"

"They went abroad?"

"Yes, sir--that is, they didn't tell me."

"But you have some idea where they are gone?"

The man was silent.

Leicester took a step nearer, while the man shrank back.

"No, my man," he said, "you are not going till you tell me what you know."

The old servant looked around fearfully, and then said:

"I know nothing, sir; n.o.body knows anything."

"Don't tell any more lies. They must have letters forwarded."

"The housekeeper may know, sir."