There was a chemist's shop at the corner which boasted a public telephone, and, entering the box, he rang up Mark. "No news here," came the reply in answer to his first inquiry. "How about you?" In a few words Colin acquainted him with the story he had just been told, giving the bare facts exactly as he had heard them from the girl. "It seems a devilish queer business," was Mark's comment, after a short pause. "What are you going to do about it?" "I know the name of her lawyer at Helston," said Colin. "It's Penwarren. I shall send a telegram at once to find out whether he's in London." "And suppose he's not?" "In that case there's only one explanation. She's in the hands of that brute Fenton, and----" "Look here," broke in Mark, "shall I come up and join you? I can easily put off my round until this evening." "I would rather you stayed at the surgery for the present," replied Colin. "A message might come through from Nancy any time, and I shall have to give Penwarren your address so that he can have somewhere to reply to. I'll ring you up again about half-past one, before I see Marsden. We ought to have an answer by then." "I'll be here," said Mark. "Don't you worry more than you can help. Even if you're right, Nancy can't be in any real danger; the police will have her back in a few hours." "Please God," said Colin fervently. He replaced the receiver, and, leaving the shop, walked on quickly up the King's Road until he reached the post office. Here, after destroying two previous attempts, he wrote out the following wire, which he signed in Mark's name: "I shall be very grateful if you will let me know immediately whether Mr. Penwarren is in London and whether he has any business to discuss with Miss Nancy Seymour. Miss Seymour is in my employment. The matter is extremely urgent." He handed this to the girl behind the counter, and, having paid for a reply, made his way back to where he had left the car. He had done everything he could think of for the present, but the knowledge of this fact deepened rather than lessened his anxiety. The whole affair was so extraordinary that he had an instinctive feeling that there must be something evil at the back of it. Was it likely or even possible that the summons which Nancy had received could really have come from Mr. Penwarren? Even if he were in town, for what conceivable reason could he have sent to fetch her at eight o'clock in the morning? And yet, knowing Nancy's character, it seemed equally incredible that she should have left the studio under such circumstances, without being absolutely convinced that the message was a genuine one.