Limp, hysterical, and half-paralysed by her own emotions, Mrs. Gertstein took the place of Sophie Lengholm. It was an interview that did not last long, for she literally flung herself before the detective in a burst of piteous appeals for mercy. There was no possibility of extracting information from her in her present state, and Labar gave instructions that she should have the attention of a doctor. Moreland came by motor to Lydd from Dover. So far as any fresh results were concerned his journey had been fruitless. The members of the crew of Larry's boat were utterly unknown to him. But his arrival back at Lydd was opportune, for he was able to take charge of the arrangements for getting the prisoners up to London. Labar himself was to follow, but he was wishful to run over to Rye to escort Penelope to town, and he determined to have a final look round before leaving the district. It was still within the bounds of possibility that some clue would arise in regard to the movements of Larry. Winter and the Assistant Commissioner also were anxious to get back to their desks in town, but decided to stay overnight in case of any fresh development. The three motored over to Rye together in the gathering dusk, making a casual detour towards "Mope's Bottom" at the request of Labar to pick up a report from Malone. But Malone was not there. Indeed, there were but a couple of C.I.D. men left in the house, and two uniformed constables of the Kentish force on duty outside. One of the C.I.D. men observed that a messenger had been sent on to Lydd--whom they must have missed--telling of two men believed to be Larry and Billy Bungey lurking in the buildings of a farm on the outskirts of Rye. Malone had at once set off to investigate, taking with him a dozen men roped in from "Mope's Bottom" and its vicinity. "Who brought this story?" asked Winter. The officer questioned jerked his head outside, where by now, spite of the loneliness of the place, something like a small crowd had gathered about the house which had seen such strange doings during the day. "It wasn't an officer, sir. Someone picked it up as gossip outside. Malone questioned the man who started it, and decided that there might be something in it. He judged that it was his duty to go and have a look into it." "Quite right," agreed the Chief Constable. He turned to Labar. "It's likely enough to be a mare's nest. You know how these yarns spread about at these times. Doesn't sound like Larry to me. All the same we'd better go and see. It's on our way." With this vague destination--for no one knew anything more concrete--they set off, the Metropolitan constable, who drove, taking the marsh road cautiously under the advice of the local policeman who sat by him as a guide.