Greatorex, in the rear of the procession, was heard to remark that he was damned if he could make head or tail of it. PART 3: THE EXPLANATION 1 Mr. Messenger and the Sergeant were in the drawing-room talking to Lady Ulrica and Vernon, when Harrison, at the head of the little party, entered by the French window. Mr. Messenger’s story was soon told. His daughter had left the hotel presumably between nine and ten o’clock, and had not been seen since. He explained that he was peculiarly anxious because she had been in very low spirits recently. For one thing, a friend of hers, a Mrs. Burton who lived a few miles away, had committed suicide about three weeks before. Also, and here Mr. Messenger looked rather pointedly in the direction of Robert Fell; also, he believed that she had--he paused with obvious intention before he concluded--“she had--another trouble on her mind.” Harrison had listened with a preoccupied air that was unusual to him. But as the hotel-keeper finished his story, he warmed again to his usual alertness. “I must tell you, Messenger,” he said, “that we have only this moment come up from the lake, all of us. And we saw no sign of your daughter there, but we did meet another young woman, a perfect stranger to all of us, who behaved in--er--in a rather odd manner. Might I ask you if you have anyone staying with you who at all answers that description?” “We’ve no one staying in the house at all this week-end, sir,” Messenger replied. “And do you know of anyone, any stranger staying in the village?” “There’s no one, sir, to my knowledge,” Messenger said, and went on quickly: “But have I your permission now, sir, for me and Mr. Stevens to go down to the plantation, and--and the lake?” He paused before he added in a lower tone, “Though I’m afraid we’ll be too late. She’s been gone, now, for more than three hours.” “But we’ve just come back from the plantation, all of us,” Harrison protested. “If she’d been there, surely we should have seen her?” “Not if she’d ... if she’d been....” Messenger began, and stopped abruptly, putting his hand to his throat as if his words had choked him. Stevens, the police-sergeant, shifted his feet uneasily and looked half-appealingly at Mrs. Harrison. “Mr. Messenger is afraid as Miss Phyllis may ’ave--may ’ave done what her friend Mrs. Burton did,” he explained. Mrs. Harrison got to her feet with a sudden effect of tense emotion, but before she could speak her husband cut in quickly by saying, “We’d better have the electric torches, Emma. Will you get them? G. and I will go, too. Will you come, Vernon?” “Certainly,” Vernon said. There was a light in his eyes that was hardly indicative of horror or even of pity. Harrison turned away from him with a movement of disgust. “And Fell? Where’s Fell?” he asked. But Fell had already left the room. “He went out by the window, a couple of minutes back, sir,” the Sergeant said.