Part 113 (1/2)

”One moment,” said Leslie, as he slipped some notes into the man's hand.

”You will spare neither time nor money.”

”I will not, sir.”

”Tell me one thing. What shall you do first?”

”Just the opposite to what you've done, gentlemen,” said the officer.

”What do you mean?”

”Go down to Hakemouth by to-night's mail, and work back to town.”

”I feel certain,” said Leslie, ”that he brought her to London to take tickets for France.”

”I don't, sir, yet. But even if I did, it's a long bridge from here to Cornwall, and I might find them resting in one of the recesses. You leave it to me, sir. Good-day. Humph!” he added as he went out; ”plain as a pikestaff. Women are womanly, and I have known instances of a woman sticking to a man for no reason whatever, except that he was a scamp, and sometimes the greater the scamp the tighter the tie.

Pradelle's my man, and I think I can put my thumb upon him before long.”

”No, Leslie, no. Louie wouldn't look at him. That's not the clue,”

said Uncle Luke.

Volume 3, Chapter XVI.

THE NEEDLE IN A BOTTLE OF HAY.

A week of anxiety, with the breaks in it of interviews with Sergeant Parkins, who had very little to communicate; but still that little was cogent.

He had been down to Hakemouth, and by careful inquiry had tracked the missing pair to Plymouth, where he had missed them. But, after the fas.h.i.+on of a huntsman, he made long casts round and picked up the clue at Exeter, where a porter remembered them from what sounded like an altercation in a second-cla.s.s compartment, where a dark young lady was in tears, and the ”gent” who was with her said something to her sharply in a foreign tongue. Pressed as to what it was like, he said it sounded as if the gent said ”Taisey.”

There the sergeant had lost the clue; but he had learned enough to satisfy himself that the fugitives had been making for London, unless they had branched off at Bristol, which was hardly likely.

”Come up to London,” said Leslie. ”Well, that is what we surmised before we applied to you.”

”Exactly, sir; but I have nearly made your surmise a certainty.”

”Yes, nearly,” said Leslie bitterly.

”We must have time, sir. A hunter does not secure his game by rus.h.i.+ng at it. He stalks it.”

”Yes,” said Uncle Luke in a.s.sent, ”and of course you must be certain.

This is not a criminal matter.”

”No, sir, of course not,” said the sergeant dryly, and with a meaning in his tone which the others did not detect.

”If you are successful in finding their whereabouts, mind that your task ends there. You will give us due notice, and we will see to the rest.”

”Certainly, sir; and I have men on the look out. The bottle of hay is being pretty well tossed over, and some day I hope to see the s.h.i.+ne of the needle among the puzzling dry strands. Good morning.”

”Is that man a humbug, sir, or in earnest?”