"Certainly not, and this chance shall not be slighted. But we will not risk everything upon the hazard. My plan is this. Crawley, Sophy, and I will go to Monkshead on a voyage of discovery. You shall remain here to take advantage of anything that may turn up. I will keep you posted as to our movements; you will keep me posted as to yours. Blessings on the electric telegraph. You will repeat all telegrams that arrive for me to such places as I shall direct, retaining the originals in case of miscarriage. Do you agree to all this?" "I must," said Bob, "though I would rather go with you." "There would then be no one left in command here, and we should be burning our ships." "All right. You are welcome to Crawley. Must you take Sophy?" "I must. She is the only one in our party who is familiar with M. Felix. If we hunt Peterssen down, M. Felix will most likely be with him, and Sophy is at hand for the purpose of identification. Should I have reason to believe we have struck the right trail, I will wire to you, and you can come on to us. Say agreed, old fellow." "Agreed, old fellow." After that Bob and I were closeted together for an hour, setting down all our arrangements in black and white; then I prepared to depart. "Good luck, Agnold," said the faithful Bob. "Send for me soon." "As soon as I can. I want you to be in at the death." I spoke these words lightly, with no notion of their ominous significance, and a carriage and pair having been got ready for us, Crawley, Sophy, and I took our seats in it, and bowled along to Monkshead. We arrived there at noon on the following day, and at the post-office I found two telegrams sent by Bob, one from himself saying that stagnation was the order of things, the other a copy of one forwarded from Emilia in London, in which she said that she had not heard from M. Bordier, and expected that he was on his way to her. The whole of the afternoon I was engaged in the attempt to discover whether any persons answering to the description of Dr. Peterssen and his companions had made any stay in Monkshead. I learnt nothing of a satisfactory nature, and, thoroughly exhausted, I was discontentedly refreshing the inner man, Sophy sitting at the same table with me, when Crawley, who had been out making inquiries, came in with a man who looked like what he was--a tramp. "Here's a fellow," said Crawley, "who can tell us something." "If I'm paid for it," said the tramp. "You shall be paid for your trouble," I said, giving him a shilling. "This is on account. You shall have another if your information is satisfactory." "He has tramped from Deering," said Crawley, "and passed the parties we are looking for." "How far off?" I asked. "A matter of forty miles," replied the tramp. "Were they riding or walking?" "Two was riding, one was walking." "What was the conveyance?" "What do you mean?" "Were they riding in a carriage?" "No, in a cart; top of sack of hay." "What is the man who was walking like?"