It was now Carriston's turn. He plied me with many questions. In fact, I gave him the whole history of my adventure. "What kind of house is it?" he asked. "Better than a cottage--scarcely a farm-house. A place, I should think, with a few miserable acres of bad land belonging to it. One of those wretched little holdings which are simply curses to the country." He made lots of other inquiries, the purport of which I could not then divine. He seemed greatly impressed when I told him that the man had never for a moment left me alone. He shot a second glance of triumph at Brand, who still kept silent, and looked as if all the wind had been taken out of his sails. "How far is the place?" asked Carriston. "Could you drive me there after dark?" At this question the doctor returned to life. "What do you mean to do?" he asked his friend. "Let us have no nonsense. Even now I feel sure that Fenton is mislead by some chance resemblance--" "Deuce a bit, old chap," I said. "Well, whether or not, we needn't do foolish things. We must go and swear information, and get a search-warrant, and the assistance of the police. The truth is, Richard," he continued, turning to me, "we have reason to believe, or I should say Carriston persists in fancying, that a friend of his has for some time been kept in durance by the man whom you say you recognized." "Likely enough," I said. "He looked villain enough for anything up to murder." "Anyway," said Brand, "we must do everything according to law." "Law! I want no law," answered Carriston. "I have found her, as I knew I should find her. I shall simply fetch her, and at once. You can come with me or stay here, as you like, doctor; but I am afraid I must trouble your friend to drive me somewhere near the place he speaks of." Foreseeing an adventure and great fun--moreover, not unmoved by thoughts of revenge--I placed myself entirely at Carriston's disposal. He expressed his gratitude, and suggested that we should start at once. In a few minutes we were ready, and mounted the dog-cart. Brand, after grumbling loudly at the whole proceeding, finished up by following us, and installing himself in the back seat. Carriston placed a parcel he carried inside the cart, and away we went. It was now nearly dark, and raining cats and dogs. I had my lamps lighted, so we got along without much difficulty. The roads were deep with mud; but by this time the snow had been pretty nearly washed away from everywhere. I don't make a mistake in a road twice, so in due course we reached the scene of my upset. Here I drew up. "The house lies about five hundred yards up the lane," I told Carriston; "we had better get out here." "What about the horse?" asked Brand. "No chance of any one passing this way on such a night as this; so let us put out the lamps and tie him up somewhere." We did so; then struggled on afoot until we saw the gleam of light which had been so welcomed by me two nights before.