"Yes, twenty minutes before. After the gentleman took his tickets he came from the platform two or three times and looked at me. 'What are you waiting for?' he asked the last time. 'For a fare,' I answered. 'Look here,' he said, 'if anybody asks you any questions about me, don't answer them. 'Why shouldn't I?' I asked. It was then he pulled out the florin. 'O, very well,' I said; 'it's no business of mine.' But I didn't go away till the train started with them in it." "Do you know whether they intended to stop in Margate?" "I should say not. As I drove 'em to the station, I heard the gentleman speak to the middle-aged lady--his wife, I suppose--about the boat for Boulogne." I gave a start of vexation; Devlin smiled; Carton was following the conversation with great attention. "Do you know what boat?" "The Sir Walter Raleigh. The gentleman had one of the bills in his hand, and was looking at it. He said to the lady, 'We shall be in plenty of time.'" "Do you know at what time the boat starts from Ramsgate for Boulogne?" "Leaves the harbour at half-past nine, but is generally half an hour late." I looked at my watch. It was just eleven o'clock. "Is there any chance," I asked, "of this boat being delayed?" "Why should it? The weather's fair." "Is there any other boat starting for Boulogne this morning?" "None. There's the Sir Walter Raleigh from Ramsgate, and sometimes the India from here; but the India don't go to-day." "Could we hire a boat from here?" "You might, but it would be risky, and would cost a lot of money. Then, there's no saying when you would get there. It's a matter of between forty and fifty miles, and the steamers take about five hours getting across; sometimes a little less, generally a little more. There's no depending upon 'em. Look here. You're going to behave to me liberal. You want to follow the party I drove from Athelstan Road this morning." "Show me the way to get to Boulogne to-day," I said, "and I'll give you another half-sovereign." "Practical creature!" murmured Devlin. "In human dealings there is but one true touchstone." "Spoke like a real gentleman," said Bill Foster to me. "What time is it?" "Five minutes past eleven." "Wait here; I sha'n't be gone but a few minutes. Get everything ready to start directly I come back." His trap was standing at the corner of Royal Crescent. He ran out, jumped on the box, and was gone. I called to the waiter, and in three minutes the hotel bill was paid, and we were ready. During Bill Foster's absence I said to Carton, "Do you make anything of all this?" "It looks," replied Carton, "as if my guardian was running away." "To my mind there's not a doubt of it. Have you any idea what that little box he would not let out of his charge contains?" "The two thousand sovereigns he obtained from the bank," said Carton, in a tone of inquiry. "Exactly. I tell you now plainly that I am positive Mr. Kenneth Dowsett is implicated in the murder of your poor girl."