The General patted his orderly’s lean shoulder. "You have done right, old sheep-dog," he said. "And as the lamb has broken loose from the fold you can go and get food and take a few hours’ rest. Come, Alec! Let us get back and see what Bradshaw has to tell us." Azimoolah having vanished over the boundary wall for his lodging in the village, they returned to the house and repaired to the library. Forsyth found a Northwestern time-table and turned up Tring. "Beaumanoir must have caught the 7.30 down," he said, running his finger down the page. "It’s a slow train, stopping at every station, and doesn’t go beyond Bletchley." The General was growing querulous. "Bletchley!" he snorted. "What the deuce does he want at Bletchley? It’s a little one-horse town in North Bucks, isn’t it?" "Hold on, it’s more than that," said Forsyth, still with his finger on the column. "It’s a junction where fast trains stop, and—yes!—he could change there into the North of England express, which calls there at 8.10." The two men looked at each other in silence and with something of consternation. "Liverpool is in the north of England," said the General after a pause, "and Sherman is due to arrive there to-day." "I cannot and will not believe that Beaumanoir has gone wrong after all," Forsyth angrily replied to his uncle’s significant remark. He spoke with such heat that neither of them noticed that the library door had been opened and that Mrs. Talmage Eglinton stood there, smiling at them. "Who has gone wrong?" she purred sweetly. "For goodness’ sake, don’t tell me that the Duke has run away with a housemaid!" She was looking at Forsyth with eyes that bored like gimlets, and he thought of the letter from Ziegler, addressed to the Duke, entrusted to him the day before. Was it something in that letter that made her stare so steadfastly and yet with something of mockery in her gaze? Having good reason to be aware of the contents of that letter, he thought it likely. Only in that case calculations had been all at sea, and Beaumanoir—alas, poor Beaumanoir! It was the General who answered the lady’s banter, and that without any visible discomfiture. "No, it isn’t the Duke who has gone wrong," he said calmly. "We were talking of someone not nearly so exalted. Our host is all right—gone away for a few hours by an early train on business. We have found out all about his movements, and I shall be obliged, Mrs. Talmage Eglinton, if you will kindly reassure the other ladies that Beaumanoir’s absence is satisfactorily accounted for." "How delighted Miss Sherman will be. I will go and tell them all, at once," cried the American gaily. And she swept out of the room with an exuberant triumph not lost on those who remained behind. "Wherever the Duke has gone, and with whatever motive, Mrs. Talmage Eglinton is pleased," the General mused aloud. "She will find herself mistaken if she thinks he has gone to play her game," said Alec Forsyth, staunch as ever to his friend.