Armadale had been examining the tracks on the sand without paying Wendover even the courtesy of listening to him. He now broke in. “If you'll look at No. 3's tracks, sir, you'll find that they're quite light up to the point where he came directly behind Fordingbridge; and then they get deeply marked on the stretch leading down to the sea.” “That's quite correct, inspector,” Sir Clinton agreed. “And if you look again you'll find that when they're light, the toes turn out to a fair extent; but on the heavier part of the track No. 3 walked—as Mr. Wendover pointed out—like a Red Indian. Does that interest you?” The inspector shook his head. “I don't quite get it, sir.” “Ever been in France, inspector?” “Just for a trip, sir.” “Ah, then you may not have chanced to come across Père François, then. If you met him, he might have helped you a bit in explaining these levitation affairs.” Wendover pricked up his ears. “Who's your French friend, Clinton?” “Père François? Oh, he was one of the pioneers of aviation, in a way; taught men to fly, and all that. ‘Get off the Earth’ was his motto.” “There's not much of the strong, silent man about you, Clinton,” said Wendover glumly. “I never heard anyone to beat you for talking a lot and saying nothing while you're doing it.” “Père François not mentioned in the classics? Well, well. One can't drag in everything, of course. But don't let's dwell on it. What about the business in hand? We must have a theory to work on, you know. How do you account for Mr. Paul Fordingbridge's quaint behaviour, squire? That's really of some importance.” Wendover pondered for a time before taking up his friend's implied challenge. “Suppose that No. 3 had a chloroformed pad in his hand when he came up behind Fordingbridge,” he suggested at last, “and that he clapped it over Fordingbridge's mouth from behind; and then, once he was unconscious, they both carried him down to a boat.” “You can chloroform a sleeping man without any struggle,” the inspector commented acidly, “but you can't chloroform a normal man without his making some sort of struggle. There's no trace of a struggle here.” Wendover had to admit the flaw. “Well, then,” he amended, “I suppose one must assume that he voluntarily allowed himself to be lifted down to the boat.” Armadale hardly troubled to conceal his sneer.