"That's right, old chap, have it out. Here on my shoulder, if you want to, daddy, and don't be ashamed of it!" said Cleek, and reached round his arm over the man's shoulder and clapped him on the back. "Let her go, and don't apologize because it's womanish. A man without a strain of the woman in him somewhere isn't worth the powder to blow him to perdition. We'll have him cleared, daddy--gad, yes! And look here! When he is cleared you take him by the ear and tell him to do his sweethearting in England, the young jackass, and to let foreign beauties alone; they're not picking up with young Englishmen of his position for nothing, especially if they are reputed to have money of their own and to be connected with titled families. If you can't make him realize that by gentle means, take him into the garden and bang it into him--hard." "Thank you, sir; thank you! I can see it now, Mr. Cleek. Not much use in shouting 'Rule Britannia' if you're going to ship on a foreign craft, is there, sir? But anybody would have been taken in with her--she seemed such a sweet, gentle little thing and had such winning ways. And when she lost her father, the wife and I simply couldn't help taking her to our hearts." "Quite so. Ever see that 'father,' Mr. Beachman?" "Yes, sir, once; the day before he sailed--or was supposed to have sailed--for the States." "Short, thick-set man was he? Carried one shoulder a little lower than the other, and had lost the top of a finger on the left hand?" "Yes, sir; the little finger. That's him to a T." "Boris Borovonski!" declared Cleek, glancing over at Sir Charles. "No going to the States for that gentleman with a 'deal' like this on hand. He'd be close by and in constant touch with her. Did she have any friends in the town, Mr. Beachman?" "No, not one. She appeared to be of a very retiring disposition, and made no acquaintances whatsoever. The only outside person I ever knew her to take any interest in was a crippled girl who lived with her bedridden mother and took in needlework. Greta heard of the case, and went to visit them. Afterward she used to carry work to them frequently, and sometimes fruit and flowers." "Ever see that bedridden woman or that cripple girl?" "No, sir, never. Harry and I would be busy here most of the days, so she always went alone." "Did she ever ask Mrs. Beachman to accompany her?" "Not that I ever heard of, sir. But it would have been to no purpose if she had. The wife is a very delicate woman; she rarely ever goes anywhere." "Hum-m-m! I see! So, then, you really do not know if there actually was a woman or a girl at all? Any idea where the persons were supposed to live?"