"No, sir," replied Easleby. "Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, sir, entered your stage-door at about eleven-thirty--walked straight in. But he never came out of that door--so he must have left by another exit." Mr. Leopold Castlemayne suddenly sat up very erect and rigid. His face flushed a little, his lips parted; he looked from one man to the other. "Mr.--Gabriel--Chestermarke!" he said. "Entered my stage-door--eleven-thirty--last night? Here!--describe him!" Easleby glanced at Starmidge. And Starmidge, as if he were describing a picture, gave a full and accurate account of Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke's appearance from head to foot. The lessee suddenly jumped from his chair, walked over to a door, opened it, and looked into an inner room. Evidently satisfied, he closed the door again, came back, seated himself, thrust his hands in his pockets, and looked at the detectives. "All in confidence--strict confidence?" he said. "All right, then!--I understand. I tell you, I don't know any Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, of Scarnham! The man you've described--the man who came here last night--is Godwin Markham, the Conduit Street money-lender--damn him!" CHAPTER XXIII THE AGGRIEVED VICTIM If Mr. Leopold Castlemayne's last word was expressive, his next actions were suggestive and significant. Returning to the door of the inner room, he turned the key in it; crossing to the door by which the detectives had been shown in, he locked that also; proceeding to a cupboard in an adjacent recess, he performed an unlocking process--after which he produced a decanter, a syphon, three glasses, and a box of cigars. He silently placed these luxuries on a desk before his visitors, and hospitably invited their attention. "Yes!" he said presently, proceeding to help the two men to refreshment, and pressing the cigars upon them, "I've good reason to say that, gentlemen! Godwin Markham, indeed! I ought to know him! If I don't look out, that devil of a bloodsucker is going to ruin me--he is, so!" Easleby gave Starmidge an almost imperceptible wink as he lighted a cigar. It was evident that Mr. Leopold Castlemayne was not only willing to talk, but was uncommonly glad to have somebody to talk to. Indeed, his moody countenance began to clear as his tongue became unloosed; he was obviously at that stage when a man is thankful to give confidences to any fellow-creature. "I've done business with gentlemen of your profession before," he went on, nodding to his visitors over the rim of his tumbler, "and I know you're to be trusted--naturally, you hear a good many queer things and queer secrets in your line of life. And as you come to me in confidence, I'll tell you a thing or two in confidence. It may help you--if you're certain that the man you're wanting is the man who came here last night. Do you want him?"