'Naturally, but, as this place and the stations are sure to be watched, as the trains are slow, local, and inconvenient, and as, thanks to the economy of the marquis, you have no horses, it will be horribly difficult for me to leave the house and get to London and to work without their spotting me. It is absolutely essential to my scheme that I should not be known to be in town, and that I should be supposed to be here. I'll think it out. In the meantime we must do what we can to throw dust in the eyes of the enemy. Wire an identical advertisement to all the London papers; I'll write it.' Merton went to a table on which lay some writing materials, and wrote:-- 'BURLINGTON ARCADE. SILVER-TOPPED EBONY STICK. Any offer made by the other party will be doubled on receipt of that consignment uninjured. Will meet the lady. Traps shall be kept here till after the date you mention. CHURCH BROOK.' 'Now,' said Merton, 'he will see that Church Brook is Kirkburn, and that you will be liberal. And he will understand that the detectives are not to return to London. You did not show them the letters?' 'Of course not till you saw them, and I won't.' 'And, if nothing can be done before the eleventh, why you must promenade in the Burlington Arcade.' 'You see one weak point in your offers, don't you?' 'Which?' 'Why, suppose they do release the marquis, how am I to get the money to pay double his offer? He won't stump up and recoup me.' Merton laughed. 'We must risk it,' he said. 'And, in the changed circumstances, the tin might be raised on a post-obit. But _he_ won't bid high; you may double safely enough.' On considering these ideas Logan looked relieved. 'Now,' he asked, 'about your plan; is it following the emu's feather?' Merton nodded. 'But I must do it alone. The detectives must stay here. Now if I leave, dressed as I am, by the 10.49, I'll be tracked all the way. Is there anybody in the country whom you can absolutely trust?' 'Yes, there's Bower, the gardener, the son of these two feudal survivals, and there is _his_ son.' 'What is young Bower?' 'A miner in the collieries; the mine is near the house.' 'Is he about my size? Have you seen him?' 'I saw him last night; he was one of the watchers.' 'Is he near my size?' 'A trifle broader, otherwise near enough.' 'What luck!' said Merton, adding, 'well, I can't start by the 10.49. I'm ill. I'm in bed. Order my breakfast in bed, send Mrs. Bower, and come up with her yourself.' Merton rushed up the turnpike stair; in two minutes he was undressed, and between the sheets. There he lay, reading Bradshaw, pages 670, 671. Presently there was a knock at the door, and Logan entered, followed by Mrs. Bower with the breakfast tray. Merton addressed her at once. 'Mrs. Bower, we know that we can trust you absolutely.' 'To the death, sir--me and mine.' 'Well, I am not ill, but people must think I am ill. Is your grandson on the night shift or the day shift?'