"Oh, you'll have an explanation in the course of the morning all right," said Kelson with a smile at the host's worry. "Don't take it too seriously; it isn't worth it. You've got Mr. Henshaw's luggage, which indemnifies you, and he is manifestly a person quite capable of taking care of himself." Mr. Dipper gave a doubtful jerk of the head. "It is very mysterious all the same." Kelson laughed as he went off with his friend. "I'm afraid I can't get up much interest in the doings of the objectionable Henshaw," he remarked lightly as they started off. "Such men as he know what they are about, and are not too punctilious with regard to other people's inconvenience." "No," Gifford responded quietly. "All the same, his non-appearance is a little mysterious." Kelson blew away the suggestion of mystery in a short, contemptuous laugh. "Oh, he is probably up to some devilry with some fool of a girl," he said in an offhand tone. "I know the type of man. They have a keen scent for impressionable women, of whom a fellow of that sort has always half-a-dozen in tow. No doubt that is what he came down here for--a tender adventure. That's the only kind of hunting he is keen on, take my word for it." "I quite agree with you there," Gifford answered with conviction, and the subject dropped. When they returned for luncheon they found that nothing had been heard of the _Golden Lion's_ missing guest. "It is rather an extraordinary move of our friend's," Kelson observed with a laugh. "He surely can't be living all this time in his evening clothes. Not but what a man like that would not let a trifle stand in his way if he had some scampish sport in view. No doubt he is up to a dodge or two by way of obviating these little difficulties." In the afternoon the two friends went up to Wynford Place to call after the dance. Kelson had naturally been much more inclined to drive over to the Tredworths, about seven miles away, in order to settle his betrothal, but Gifford suggested that the duty call should be paid first, and so it was arranged. To Kelson's delight he heard that Muriel Tredworth and her brother were coming over next day to stay with the Morristons for another dance in the neighbourhood and a near meet of the hounds; so he, warming to the Morristons, chatted away in all a lover's high spirits. "By the way," he said presently, as they sat over tea, "rather an extraordinary thing has happened at the _Golden Lion_." "What's that?" asked his host. "Did you notice a man named Henshaw here last night? A big, dark fellow, probably a stranger to you, but by way of being a former follower of the Cumberbatch." "An old fellow?" Morriston asked. "Oh, no. About six-and-thirty, I should say; eh, Hugh?" "Under forty, certainly," Gifford answered. "Tall and very dark, almost to swarthiness; of course I remember the man." Morriston exclaimed with sudden recollection. "I introduced him to a partner."