*CHAPTER XVI.* It cannot be imagined that Titania, who had survived so many shocks, was ill for nothing. When Bob discovered what she was ill of, he stood outside on the lawn with his hands deep in his pockets and with his legs wide apart. "I must tell ’em this at once," said Bob, gloomily. "If I don’t tell Gordon, he’ll forget he’s invested a hundred of mine in something to make hair curl, and I shall lose the money. I mean to make money to keep up Goring by and by. And he said he’d make me a director, too. For the sake of the family, I can’t neglect him. Or De Vere, either. Or any of ’em. But—but I never thought it of Pen!" With his pockets full of money derived from the sale of dogs to De Vere, he rushed off to the station and caught a train for town. When he reached London, he sent a wire to "Old Guth." "I’m in town on important business. Break it to grandmother between fits. I hope to be back to-morrow." He rushed off to Park Lane to find Gordon. "Mr. Gordon has gone to Spilsborough, sir," said Gordon’s man. "D— I mean confound it!" said Bob. He went to Plant’s. "Mr. Plant went to Spilsborough in a great hurry this afternoon, sir," said Plant’s landlady. The American millionaire still lived in Bloomsbury, though not on ten shillings a week. "Oh," said Bob, "I wonder what this means. There’s a secret here!" He drove in a hansom to find Bramber. A very ingenuous piece of humanity in buttons told Bob that Lord Bramber came in about four o’clock torn to ribbons, and found a telegram waiting him. "And off he went in his motor-car." "Where?" asked Bob. "I don’t know," said the buttons. But on Bob’s going to Bramber’s room, he found the ABC open on the table at the page with Spilsborough on it. "Sherlock Holmes would say he has gone to Spilsborough," cried Bob. "And if Gordon and Plant have gone there, too, I’ll bet all the rest have gone. I’ll go, too." But there was no train for three hours! "I’m done," said Bob, "No, I’m not. I’ll hire a motor-car." He went to the nearest place in Regent Street and hired one. "Very well, sir," said the man, "but it’s rather expensive, you know." Bob pulled out a handful of sovereigns. "Take as many as you think fair," he said, grandly. "And don’t forget I want a speedy one, and a man that can drive, and I’ll pay the fines of course!" That was how he came to Spilsborough just in time and about the hour when the moon was to rise. He passed a motor-car in the ditch about ten miles out of the cathedral city, and did not stop to find out what was the matter. He thus missed the discovery that Bramber and his chauffeur were both sitting upon the wreck, using very awful language to each other on the subject of losing the way and coming bolt down a side road into the opposing hedge. It is astonishing how an accident at thirty miles an hour brings owners and mechanics down to the same human level.