he gates of
the park, then--I daren't take you further, because it's so dark in there
that you'd surely lose your way, and then there'd be a second
disappearance and all sorts of complications."

She went out of the inn, laughing and chattering, but once outside she
suddenly became serious, and she involuntarily laid her hand on
Copplestone's arm as they turned down the hillside towards the quay.

"I say!" she said in a low voice. "I wasn't going to ask questions in
there, but--what's going to be done about this Oliver affair? Of course
you're stopping here to do something. What?"

Copplestone hesitated before answering this direct question. He had not
seen anything which would lead him to suppose that Miss Adela Chatfield
was a disingenuous and designing young woman, but she was certainly
Peeping Peter's daughter, and the old man, having failed to get anything
out of Copplestone himself, might possibly have sent her to see what she
could accomplish. He replied noncommittally.

"I'm not in a position to do anything," he said. "I'm not a relative--not
even a personal friend. I daresay you know that Bassett Oliver was--one's
already talking of him in the past tense!--the brother of Rear-Admiral
Sir Cresswell Oliver, the famous seaman?"

"I knew he was a man of what they call family, but I didn't know that,"
she answered. "What of it?"

"Stafford's wired to Sir Cresswell," replied Copplestone. "He'll be down
here some time tomorrow, no doubt. And of course he'll take everything
into his own hands."

"And he'll do--what?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Copplestone. "Set the police to work, I
should think. They'll want to find out where Bassett Oliver went, where
he got to, when he turned up to the Keep, saying he'd go and call on
the Squire, as he'd met some man of that name in America. By-the-bye,
you said you'd been in America. Did you meet anybody of the Squire's
name there?"

They were passing along the quay by that time, and in the light of one of
its feeble gas-lamps he turned and looked narrowly at his companion. He
fancied that he saw her face change in expression at his question; if
there was any change, however, it was so quick that it was gone in a
second. She shook her head with emphatic decision.

"I?" she exclaimed. "Never! It's a most uncommon name, that. I never
heard of anybody called Greyle except at Scarhaven."

"The present Mr. Greyle came from America," said Copplestone.

"I know