The visit of Mrs. Hedderwick and the vicar's wife made matters fairly clear to the landlord; but, true to his salt and interest, he persisted in the tale that Robert had gone to the station. His story was disbelieved. This was not to be wondered at, considering the paucity of his inventive powers and imagination; for Glew did not adduce a particle of corroborative detail to support his statement. The ladies simply declined to give him credence, and demanded to be shown Mr. "Bangs'" bedroom. Foiled in this amiable purpose, the determined pair announced their intentions of waiting in the parlor till the victim appeared. The landlord's renewed protests and offers of affidavits had no weight with them, and they sat down with an awful dignity. At two o'clock Mrs. Peters' weariness conquered her curiosity, and she went home, offering unbounded sympathy and a bed for the night. The sympathy was accepted, the bed declined, Mrs. Hedderwick declaring she would remain at the inn, if necessary sitting up in a chair till morning. Glew had no wish for this, and cast about him for means of getting rid of the undesired guest. At six o'clock he sent his hopeful son up-stairs, himself keeping guard over the parlor from the bar opposite. Young Glew found Robert desperate: he had not thought his wife capable of such obstinacy. "Dad says," began the interested youngster, "that he'll go in and talk to the lady--keep her occupied like--if you'd care to risk it and slip out." "I will!" said Robert on the instant. Anything was better than this terrible suspense. "Let me see ... there's a train in half an hour or so ... I'll go to the station. No! I won't! Wait a minute!" He changed his resolve, partly from quixotic, partly from selfish reasons. He did not like to leave Tony to an unknown, unguessed-at fate; and he also felt very strongly that he would like that judicious schemer's advice on his next steps. He resolved to risk all and boldly apply for admittance to The Quiet House. If matters there were really serious ... well, at all events they could not be much more serious to him than the present _impasse_. "I'll do it!" he declared with a sudden resolution. "Boy! when you get your father alone, tell him I've gone up to The Quiet House. I'll write to him from there. Now go down and ask him to talk to my--to the lady. Beg him to stand in the doorway and fill it up. I'll creep quietly past in ten minutes' time."