Still much puzzled, Leo led the way to the library after shutting the door, and the two men followed him. He lighted the gas--Colester was not sufficiently civilised for electric light--and then turned to ask once more what was the matter. Raston thought the best way to bring about an explanation was to introduce his friend, who was already looking keenly round the well-furnished room. "This is Mr Marton," he said. "He is a London detective." With a bitter laugh Leo set down the candle on the table. "What," he said, "are you the man with the bow-string, Raston? Scarcely worthy of your cloth! If you wanted to arrest me, you might have waited until morning!" "Who is this young gentleman?" asked Marton, suddenly. "I am Leo Haverleigh, Mr Detective," replied the young man, sharply; "and I suppose you have come here at the instance of Mr Tempest to arrest me!" Marton snatched up the candle, and held it close to Leo's face. He was apparently quite satisfied, for he spoke in a more friendly tone. "You need not be afraid, Mr Haverleigh," he said soothingly. "I have not come to arrest you--but to investigate the case. I don't think there is any chance of your being arrested. Your face is enough for me. But this is all very well," he added impatiently; "I want Pratt!" "I will go and wake him," said Leo, who could make neither top nor tail of all this, but who was relieved to find that he was not in danger of arrest. He retired from the room, while Marton darted about here there, and everywhere. He was like a bloodhound nosing a trail. Suddenly he stopped before a cabinet, a drawer of which was open. "Too late!" said Marton in a tone of disgust. "He's bolted." "How could he bolt in this fog?" asked Raston, dubiously. "Oh, he'll find his way somehow. Tony Angel is the cleverest of men for getting out of a difficulty. He has evaded the police for years. See, my dear chap, this drawer is open. That means he has taken money or valuables from it, and is now on his way to Heaven knows what hiding-place. "Can you be sure of that? The open drawer may be an accident. Besides, he would not think you would act so promptly." "Indeed, that is just why he has bolted so expeditiously," said Marton, with something of admiration in his tones. "Angel has experienced my promptitude before, and several times I have been on the point of capturing him. He has taken French leave within the last two hours. But for that infernal fog I should have stuck to him till I ran him down. Or, at all events, I might have disabled him with a shot." The curate looked at his friend aghast. "A shot!" he stammered. Marton produced a neat little revolver. "I should have used that had I been able," he said quietly. "It does not do to adopt half measures with our mutual friend. Besides, if hard pressed he would have returned the compliment. Your Haverleigh fellow is a long time!"