etlands
and be now well on her way to the North Atlantic."

"But in that case--the money?" asked Copplestone.

"They would get hold of the money, take it clean away, and ship it from
Liverpool, or Glasgow, or--anywhere," replied Sir Cresswell. "You may be
sure they've plenty of resources at command, and that they'll work
secretly. Of course, we must keep a look out round about here for any
sign or reappearance of Chatfield, but, as I say, this country is so wild
that he and his companions can easily elude observation, especially as
they're sure to come by night. Still, we must do what we can, and at
once. But first, there are one or two things I want to ask you young
men--you said, Mr. Vickers, that Chatfield solemnly insisted to you that
he did not know that the man who had posed as Marston Greyle was not
Marston Greyle?"

"He did," replied Vickers, "and though Chatfield is an unmitigated old
scoundrel, I believe him."

"You do!" exclaimed Gilling, who was listening eagerly. "Oh, come!"

"I do--as a professional man," answered Vickers, stoutly, and with an
appealing glance at his brother solicitor. "Mr. Petherton will tell you
that we lawyers have a curious gift of intuition. With all Chatfield's
badness, I do really believe that the old fellow does not know whether
the man we'll call the Squire is Marston Greyle or not! He's
doubtful--he's puzzled--but he doesn't know."

"Odd!" murmured Sir Cresswell, after a minute's silence. "Odd! Very, very
odd! That shows that there's still some extraordinary mystery about this
which we haven't even guessed at. Well, now, another question--you got
the idea that some one else was aboard the yacht?"

"Some one other than Andrius--in authority--yes!" answered Vickers. "We
certainly thought that."

"Did you think it was the man we know as the Squire?" asked Sir
Cresswell.

"We had a notion that he might be there," replied Vickers, with a glance
at Copplestone. "Especially after what happened to Chatfield. Of course,
we never saw him, or heard his voice, or saw a sign of him. Still, we
fancied--"

Sir Cresswell rose from his chair and motioned to Petherton.

"Well," he said, "I think you and I, Petherton, had better complete our
toilets, and then give a look in at the authorities here and find out if
anything has been received by wireless or from the coastguard stations
about the yacht. In the meantime," he added, turning to Vickers and
Copplestone, "Gilling can tell you