oo, Hugh, my
lad!" he added, turning suddenly to me. "Whatever the police are doing in
the other direction, they're doing in yours. For, ugly as it may sound
and seem, there's nothing like facing facts, and I'm afraid, I'm very
much afraid, that this disappearance of Maisie Dunlop is all of a piece
with the rest of the villainy that's been going on--I am indeed!"

I pushed my plate away at that, and got on my feet. I had been dreading
as much myself, all day, but I had never dared put it into words.

"You mean, Mr. Lindsey, that she's somehow got into the hands
of--what?--who?" I asked him.

"Something and somebody that's at the bottom of all this!" he answered,
shaking his head. "I'm afraid, lad, I'm afraid!"

I went away from all of them then, and nobody made any attempt to stop
me, that time--maybe they saw in my face that it was useless. I left the
house, and went--unconsciously, I think--away through the town to my
mother's, driving my nails into the palms of my hands, and cursing Sir
Gilbert Carstairs--if that was the devil's name!--between my teeth. And
from cursing him, I fell to cursing myself, that I hadn't told at once of
my seeing him at those crossroads on the night I went the errand for
Gilverthwaite.

It had been late when Smeaton and I had got to Mr. Lindsey's, and the
night was now fallen on the town--a black, sultry night, with great
clouds overhead that threatened a thunderstorm. Our house was in a
badly-lighted part of the street, and it was gloomy enough about it as I
drew near, debating in myself what further I could do--sleep I knew I
should not until I had news of Maisie. And in the middle of my
speculations a man came out of the corner of a narrow lane that ran from
the angle of our house, and touched me on the elbow. There was a shaft of
light just there from a neighbour's window; in it I recognized the man as
a fellow named Scott that did odd gardening jobs here and there in the
neighbourhood.

"Wisht, Mr. Hugh!" said he, drawing me into the shadows of the lane;
"I've been waiting your coming; there's a word I have for you--between
ourselves."

"Well?" said I.

"I hear you're promising ten pounds--cash on the spot--to the man that
can give you some news of your young lady?" he went on eagerly. "Is it
right, now?"

"Can you?" I asked. "For if you can, you'll soon see that it's right."

"You'd be reasonable about it?" he urged, again taking the liberty to
grip my arm. "If I couldn't