“I’ll tell you why if you wish--though perhaps you know it already. Because I want to know under what circumstances my daughter has gone out motoring with some stranger--though indeed it may be that he is not quite a stranger--the moment my back was turned. Let me tell you that it is not usual for unmarried young ladies to go out motoring into far away places with men, unchaperoned. My honour--_my_ honour through my daughter--is here concerned. And it is like that damned fellow to take her away in such an underhand manner. You need say nothing of him. It’s no use trying to palliate his conduct. True enough I don’t know for certain that it is he, or that she is alone with any man; but I have a conviction that it is so; and I tell you I shall lose no time in putting my convictions to the test. I mean to take no chances with regard to that damned fellow. I don’t trust him! He has already affronted me, and has been tampering with the women of my family. I have borne even that with what temper I could because I was under obligation to him. But if, as it would seem, he has run away with my daughter, I shall brook his insolence no longer. He shall render me a full account of his doings with me and mine!” He crammed his letters into his pocket and strode upstairs. There he rang the bell in such a violent manner that the proprietor himself attended to it. Colonel Ogilvie asked him to have the chauffeur sent up to him, and requested the proprietor to come also himself as he wished to ask him some questions on local matters. He had by now his temper in hand, and was all the more dangerous because cold. In a few minutes the proprietor brought in the chauffeur, a stolid, hard-featured, silent man; manifestly one to obey orders and to stand any amount of fatigue. When Colonel Ogilvie had looked at his credentials and asked him some questions, all of which he did with perfect self-control and courtesy, he turned to the proprietor and asked: “Can you tell me whereabout is a place called Castle Douglas?” “In Scotland, Colonel. In Galloway--the part of Scotland just beyond the Firth of Solway. It is I think in Kirkcudbrightshire.” “How far from here?” “Something over a hundred miles I should say.” The father started: “Good God!” Judy’s heart sank at the exclamation and the tone; his voice was laden with horror and despair. The new chauffeur’s mouth opened. He spoke as if every word was grudgingly shot out: “It is exactly ninety-one and a half miles.” Colonel Ogilvie turned to him quickly: “How do you know so accurately; have you driven it?” “Never sir!” “Then how do you know?” “In the train coming down I spent my time looking over the maps and the distance as given in the books of the Motorists’ Touring Club. I noted that.” “Had you any reason for examining that particular route?” asked the Colonel suspiciously. He was obsessed by an idea that the “damned fellow” was corrupting everybody so as to work against him, Colonel Ogilvie.