"Should say not. To-night--when Sophy saw his ghost--was probably on his way to Tylney House. For what purpose, to us unknown." "Bob, you said there was work for us to do. I confess myself at a loss how to proceed. M. Bordier's visit to you and his appropriation of the document hidden in the secret drawer have snapped the threads of my plans. Have you anything to suggest?" "I have. Early to-morrow morning endeavor to find M. Bordier. Then consult with him." "You do not propose that we should leave this spot at once?" "No. If M. Bordier not in the village do something else before leaving. Pay a bold visit to Tylney House." "For what purpose?" "Confront Peterssen. Ascertain if M. Felix has been there." "Psha! We can get nothing of Peterssen." "Not so sure. He is hard up. Offer of a good reward too tempting a bait not to nibble at." "Why, Bob, those are very nearly the words M. Bordier used to Emilia, and your scheme is the same as that which he suggested." "Proves it a good one. M. Bordier a wealthy man, I judge?" "He is." "Wouldn't mind expending money to bring matter to a satisfactory conclusion?" "He has said as much." "Word to be depended upon?" "Thoroughly." "Depend upon him, then, for the needful. Peterssen will bite." "And if he does not?" "Crawley, the keeper. Remember what Sophy overheard him say. If he had a hundred pounds he would cut the cursed concern, and go to America. Emphatic--and doubtless true. Two birds to shoot at. Peterssen missed, Crawley remains. Aim well, bring him down." "To-morrow morning, early, we will resume work, Bob." "The earlier the better. Good-night." CHAPTER LIII. THE PORTRAIT OF GERALD PAGET. At nine o'clock next morning Bob, Sophy, and I breakfasted together. Sophy's fears were abated, although she had not quite got over her fright. During breakfast I succeeded in dispelling it completely by imparting to her, in confidence, the opinion we had formed that M. Felix was alive, and that it was his veritable self, and not his ghost, she had seen on the previous night. She listened with her mouth and eyes wide open. "You heard him speak, Sophy?" She nodded. "Ghosts can't speak. He caught hold of you; he lifted you up; you felt his touch?" She nodded again. "Ghosts can't touch; they can't make you feel them; they are made of air, Sophy; you can walk right through them. Be easy in your mind. If it _was_ M. Felix you saw"--she nodded again two or three times--"then he is alive, and we intend to hunt him down." I gave her time to revolve the matter over in her mind, and conversed with Bob while she went through the process. "Crikey!" she exclaimed presently. "What a game it is! Then it must 'ave been 'im as scared me in the night when I left aunty asleep in the kitchen. I never could make out 'ow it was he knew 'is way about in the dark as he did. He's a deep 'un, he is, and no mistake. Well, of all the moves! But what did he do it for?"