rope ladder and clambered down with the nimbleness of a
sailor. In all probability, Hilton Fenley was still talking to MacBain
and creating the illusion that the last thing he would think of was a
stroll out of doors at that late hour. But the little man took no
chances. Having surveyed the ground carefully during the day, he was
not bothered now by doubts as to the most practicable path.

Creeping close to the house till he reached the yew hedge, and then
passing through an arch, he remained in the shadow of the hedge till
it turned at a right angle in front of the Italian garden. From that
point to the edge of the Quarry Wood was not a stone's throw, and
clumps of rhododendrons and other flowering shrubs gave shelter in
plenty. Arrived at the mouth of the footpath, which he had marked by
counting the trees in the avenue, he halted and listened intently.
There was no sound of rustling grass or crunched gravel. Hilton was
taking matters leisurely. Fifteen minutes would give him ample time
for the business he had in hand. Even if Robert and Sylvia reached
home before him, which was unlikely--far more unlikely even than he
imagined--he could say that he thought it advisable to follow his
brother and help in the search for the girl. The same excuse would
serve if he met any of those pestilential police prowling about the
grounds. Indeed, he could dispatch the alert and intelligent ones on
the trail of the wanderers, especially on Robert's. In a word, matters
were going well for Hilton, so well that Furneaux laughed as he turned
into the wood.

Here the detective had to advance with care. Beneath the trees the
darkness was now so complete that it had that peculiar quality of
density which everyday speech likens to a wall. Cats, gamekeepers,
poachers, and other creatures of predatory and nocturnal habits can
find and follow a definite track under such conditions; but detectives
are nearly human, and Furneaux was compelled to use the torch more
than once. He ran no risk in doing this. Hilton Fenley could not yet
be in a position to catch the gleam of light among the trees. The one
thing to avoid was delay, and Furneaux had gained rather than lost
time, unless Fenley was running at top speed.

After crossing the damp hollow the Jerseyman had no further
difficulty; he breasted the hill and kept a hand extended so as to
avoid colliding with a tree trunk. Expecting at any instant to have a
bull's-eye lantern flashed in his eye