“Oh, satisfy yourself, by all means,” interrupted Lord Cheriton irritably. “You are great upon the science of circumstantial evidence. There is the pistol,” taking it out of a drawer in the large writing-table. “Do what you like with it.” “You are not offended with me I hope?” “No, I am only tired—tired of the whole business, and of the everlasting talk there has been about it. If it is a vendetta, if the hand that killed Godfrey Carmichael is to kill me, and my daughter, and her son—if my race is to be eradicated from the face of this earth by an unappeasable hatred I cannot help my fate. I cannot parry the impending blow. Nor can you or Scotland Yard protect me from my foe, Theodore.” “Scotland Yard may find your foe and lock him up.” “I doubt it. But do as you please.” * * * * * Theodore’s train left Wareham at nine o’clock. There was a still earlier train at seven, by which farmers and other enterprising spirits who wanted to take time by the forelock were accustomed to travel; but to be in time for the nine o’clock train Theodore had to leave Cheriton at a quarter to eight, and to drive to the distant town in the dog-cart made and provided for station work, and drawn by one of two smart cobs kept for the purpose. He left the park by the West Gate. He had to wait longer than usual for the opening of the gate; and when the chubby-cheeked maid-servant came down the steps with a key in her hand and unlocked the gate there was that in her manner which indicated a fluttered mind. “Oh, if you please, sir, I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I couldn’t find the key just at first, though I thought I’d hung it up on the nail last night after I locked the gate—but I was so upset at my mistress leaving so suddenly—never saying a word about it beforehand—that I hardly knew what I was doing.” Theodore stopped the groom as he drove through the gate. He had a few minutes to spare, and could afford himself time to question the girl, who had a look of desiring to be interrogated. “What is this about your mistress leaving suddenly?” he asked. “Do you mean that Mrs. Porter has gone away—on a journey.”