Philip shook his head. "When it comes to the mother writing and confessing she is ill--which she seldom will confess--I know she is ill, and that she expects me. Perhaps I'll look in again on my way to the train," added Philip, as he went out. "I have a call or two to make first." In the course of the day the Captain and Mr. Bootle went down to Scotland Yard and reported their losses: though they both seemed to feel that their doing so was little better than a farce. They dined together afterwards, and went to the theatre. Next day the Captain's brief visit came to an end, and he travelled back to Norfolk. The evening clock was striking nine as Captain Lennox reached Nullington station. He secured the solitary fly in waiting, and told the driver to take him to Heron Dyke. Late though it was, he thought he would tell the Squire that his gift had reached Miss Winter safely. What with this robbery and that, it behoved people to be cautious. Dismissing the fly when he reached the gates of Heron Dyke, Captain Lennox took out his cane and a small handbag, and rang at the door. Everything looked dark about the old house. There was not a glimmer of light anywhere. The shrill clang of the bell broke the deathlike silence rudely. Presently came the sound of footsteps, and then a man's voice could be heard as he grumbled and muttered to himself, while two or three heavy bolts were slowly, and, as it were, reluctantly withdrawn. "It's old Aaron Stone, and he's in a deuce of a temper, as he always is," said the Captain to himself. The great oaken door seemed to groan as it turned on its hinges. It was only opened to the extent of a few inches, and was still held by the heavy chain inside. "Who are you, and what do you mean by disturbing honest folk at this time o' night?" queried a harsh voice from within. "I am Captain Lennox. I have just returned from London, and I should like a few words with the Squire, if not too late." "The Squire never sees anybody at this time o' night. You had better come in the morning, Captain." "I cannot come in the morning. I have a message for Mr. Denison from his niece, Miss Winter." "Why couldn't you say so at first?" grumbled the old man. He seemed to hesitate for a moment or two; then he turned on his heel and went slowly away down the echoing corridor; a distant door was heard to shut, and after that all was silence again.