"I don't know, exactly," answered Copplestone. "I'm going to stay here for the night, anyway, on the chance of hearing something. Stafford is coming back in the morning--he spoke of detectives." He looked a little doubtfully at his questioner as he uttered the last word, and again he saw the sudden strange flash of unusual interest in her eyes, and she nodded her head emphatically. "Precisely!--the proper thing to do," she said. "There must have been foul play--must!" "Mother!" exclaimed Audrey, half doubtfully. "Do you really think--that?" "I don't think anything else," replied Mrs. Greyle. "I certainly don't believe that Bassett Oliver would put himself into any position of danger which would result in his breaking his neck. Bassett Oliver never left Scarhaven Wood!" Copplestone made no comment on this direct assertion. Instead, after a brief silence, he asked Mrs. Greyle a question. "You knew Mr. Oliver--personally?" "Five and twenty years ago--yes," she answered. "I was on the stage myself before my marriage. But I have never met him since then. I have seen him, of course, at the local theatres." "He--you won't mind my asking?" said Copplestone, diffidently, "he didn't know that you lived here?" Mrs. Greyle smiled, somewhat mysteriously. "Not at all--my name wouldn't have conveyed anything to him," she answered. "He never knew whom I married. Otherwise, if he met some one named Marston Greyle in America he would have connected him with me, and have made inquiry about me, and had he known I lived here, he would have called. It is odd, Audrey, that if your cousin met Mr. Oliver over there he should have forgotten him. For one doesn't easily forget a man of reputation--and Mr. Oliver was that of course!--and on the other hand, Marston Greyle is not a common name. Did you ever hear the name before, Mr. Copplestone?" "Only in connection with your own family--I have read of the Greyles of Scarhaven," replied Copplestone. "But, after all, I suppose it is not confined to your family. There may be Greyles in America. Well--it's all very queer," he went on, as he rose to leave. "May I come in tomorrow and tell you what's being done?--I'm sure Stafford means to leave no stone unturned--he's tremendously keen about it." "Do!" said Mrs. Greyle, heartily. "But the probability is that you'll see us out and about in the morning--we spend most of our time out of doors, having little else to do." Copplestone went away feeling more puzzled than ever.