"Of course, you may," May smiled, as she held out her hand. "Miss Carden is coming to stay with me to-morrow. I have persuaded her to come at once. I am ashamed to have neglected her so long." Fielden finished his business, saw the stud-groom and the horses safely on the rail, and then went to the retired part of the village where Phillips' lodgings were situated. It was little more than a cottage, but the place was neat and clean, and the cooking left nothing to be desired. "It is only a bit of fish and a steak," Phillips said cheerfully, "but you will find it beautifully served, and as to the wine, well, I got that myself, and I know it is everything it should be. Please sit down and make yourself at home. We can discuss matters over our cigars. There's nothing like racing to give you an appetite. I only hope it won't snow before morning." "I hope not," Fielden said. "To all intents and purposes the racing was spoilt this afternoon by the snow, and it is very odd that no one saw a yard from start to finish of the three o'clock race. It was most annoying." "Was it?" Phillips asked. "Well, I confess I didn't find it so. Yesterday at the time of the three o'clock race I was at the Post Club, and, singular to say, we had the same blinding snowstorm in Covent Garden. Now it surprises you, but from your point of view and mine that snowstorm was the most fortunate thing that could have happened. When I sat smoking my cigar in the Post Club there came to me the inspiration of a lifetime. I seemed to see in a flash exactly what had happened, and soon I shall know to a dead certainty. You must restrain your curiosity for a little longer. You will probably know all about it before you go to bed. Try one of these cigars. They are excellent." Fielden had hardly got his cigar aglow before the landlady came in with a telegram, which Phillips opened eagerly. There was a smile of triumph on his face as he handed it to Fielden. "What do you make of that?" he asked. "I can make nothing of it," Fielden said. "It is a wire to the effect that no important wager was made this afternoon on the three o'clock race at the Post Club, and is signed Carden. I presume that is our stout friend with the florid face and ingratiating manner, who was talking to you this afternoon. But how it helps us I haven't the ghost of an idea." Phillips rose and threw his cigar in the fire. "Come," he said. "It is time to start. You haven't much longer to wait." CHAPTER XIX THE EMPTY HOUSE There was just enough moonlight for Phillips' purpose, but not enough to render his task dangerous. Fielden asked no questions, partly because he deemed it would be useless, and partly because he did not wish to spoil what appeared to have in it the making of a dramatic adventure. His spirits were rising, and he was looking forward keenly to something in the way of enterprise. He and Phillips had been in more than one tight place together, and he had every confidence in his companion.