If this tragic incident, heightened by the actual presence of two of the actors--one all but dead, the other dying--engaged the entire interest and sympathy of the little town, the authorities were actively employed in investigating the event, and ascertaining, so far as they could, to which side the chief blame inclined. The raftsmen had all been arrested, and were examined carefully, one by one; and now it only remained to obtain from the traveller himself whatever information he could contribute to throw light on the affair. His passport, showing that he was an English peer, obtained for him all the deference and respect foreign officials are accustomed to render to that title, and the Prefect announced that if it suited his convenience, he would wait on his Lordship at his hotel to receive his deposition. “I have nothing to depose, no information to give,” was the dry and not over-courteous response; but as the visit, it was intimated, was indispensable, he named his hour to admit him. The bland and polite tone of the Prefect was met by a manner of cold but well-bred ease which seemed to imply that the traveller only regarded the incident in the light of an unpleasant interruption to his journey, but in which he took no other interest. Even the hints thrown out that he ought to consider himself aggrieved and his dignity insulted, produced no effect upon him. “It was my intention to have halted a few days at Massa, and I could have obtained another courier in the interval,” was the cool commentary he bestowed on the incident. “But your Lordship would surely desire investigation. A man is missing; a great crime may have been committed--” “Excuse my interrupting; but as I am not, nor can be supposed to be, the criminal,--nor do I feel myself the victim,--while I have not a claim to the character of witness, you would only harass me with interrogatories I could not answer, and excite me to take interest, or at least bestow attention, on what cannot concern me.” “Yet there are circumstances in this case which give it the character of a preconcerted plan,” said the Prefect, thoughtfully. “Perhaps so,” said the other, in a tone of utter indifference. “Certainly, the companion of the man who is missing, and of whom no clew can be discovered, is reported to have uttered your name repeatedly in his ravings.” “My name,--how so?” cried the stranger, hurriedly. “Yes, my Lord, the name of your passport,--Lord Glen-core. Two of those I have placed to watch beside his bed have repeated the same story, and told how he has never ceased to mutter the name to himself in his wanderings.” “Is this a mere fancy?” said the stranger, over whose sickly features a flush now mantled. “Can I see him?” “Of course. He is in the hospital, and too ill to be removed; but if you will visit him there, I will accompany you.”