Still Gimblet had liked the dead peer, and could not get the pale aristocratic face and tired, feverish blue eyes out of his head. Surely he might have found some way of preventing this catastrophe. He found a telegram at his flat. It was signed Byrne, and ran: "Please come immediately to investigate death of Lord Ashiel certain some mistake." It had been sent off at four o'clock that day. "Higgs," called Gimblet to his servant, as he filled up the prepaid reply form, "I am going North to-night, by the eight o'clock from Euston. Pack me things for a week; country clothes; and put in plenty of chocolate." He collected several things he wanted packed, and then retired to his sitting-room, where he buried himself in an enormous file of typewritten papers he had borrowed from Scotland Yard, and which related to the various Nihilists known to be living in England. He had to return them before he left London, and when he dropped them at the Yard about seven o'clock, on his way to the station, he learnt that no word had yet come from the Scotch authorities as to any further developments at Inverashiel. A few minutes past eight he was travelling North as fast as the Scotch express could carry him. It was midday on the following day when he got off the steamer that had brought him from Crianan, and landed with his luggage on the wooden pier which displayed, painted on a rough board, the name of Inverashiel. One of the deck hands dumped his luggage out on to the side of the loch and the boat moved on again. A track led across the moor, and down it Gimblet saw a farm cart advancing, driven by a man who shouted as he approached: "The young leddy's comin' doon tae meet ye, sir." And behind him, on the near skyline, the detective beheld the hurrying figure of a girl. Leaving the man with the cart to grapple with his luggage, which was not of large dimensions, Gimblet walked to meet Juliet. As they drew near, she stopped and held out her hand. "Mr. Gimblet?" she asked. "Yes," he said; "and you are Miss Byrne, are you not?" He looked at her keenly as he spoke, noticing that her eyes were red and swollen, and that her whole bearing was eloquent of sorrow and want of sleep. She lifted a miserable face to him. "Yes," she said. "I am so glad you have come, but it has seemed a long while. I suppose you couldn't get here before. Do you know all that has happened?" "I know that Lord Ashiel is dead," said the detective. "Hardly more than that. Will you tell me all there is to tell before we go up to the castle?" "I have left the castle, and am staying with Lady Ruth Worsfold, whose house you can just see through the trees," she said. "Will you come there first, or shall we go straight to the castle. It is about a mile through the woods."