Mr. Goddard walked a mile along the road towards Rosivera, and then sat down on a ditch. There was no sign of Sergeant Farrelly. At nine o’clock he got up, and walked another mile and sat down again. Still there was no sign of the missing policemen. He walked a third mile and once more waited. He was puzzled and began to be uneasy. He turned and walked back towards Clonmore. Half a mile outside the town he climbed the demesne wall and crossed an angle of the deer park to the Castle. It was a quarter past ten when he reached the door. He found Lord Manton in the library with a book in his hand and a glass of whisky and soda water on the arm of his chair. There was a pile of cigarette ends on the tray which stood within reach. “Well, Goddard,” he said, “I suppose you’ve tucked all your ladies up in bed and come up here for a quiet smoke. You deserve it.” “No,” said Mr. Goddard; “I’ve come to consult you. I don’t understand----” “Surely nobody else has bolted?” “Sergeant Farrelly and the constable have not returned from Rosivera.” “Dear me! I always heard that these things were infectious, like measles. One suicide, half a dozen suicides. We appear to be in for an epidemic of bolting. But I’d never have suspected the sergeant. He seemed such a solid sort of man, not the least hysterical; but you can never tell. I hope you won’t vanish to-morrow, Goddard. If you feel it coming on you, you’d better put yourself under arrest at once. Was the sergeant a married man?” “No, he wasn’t.” “Then there’ll be no widow to make lamentation in his case. That’s a good job for you, Goddard. I don’t see how you could have got on with another woman running round after you. What about the constable?” “He’s not married either. He’s not long enough in the service.” “Poor fellow!” said Lord Manton. “I suppose now that this will ruin his prospects, even if he comes back.” “Lord Manton,” said Mr. Goddard, “what do you know about that tenant of yours at Rosivera?” “Surely you’re not coming round to Miss Blow’s murder theory, are you?” “I don’t know. It’s a very queer business. Is Red--that’s the man’s name, isn’t it--respectable?” “I don’t know. I never saw the man in my life. I know nothing about him except that he paid his rent and came here in a motor-car. That looks as if he had money, doesn’t it?” “I don’t understand it,” said Mr. Goddard. “The sergeant and Cole certainly went to Rosivera to-day. I don’t see what was to stop them getting there. They weren’t likely to lose their way. They certainly haven’t come back.” “What does Jimmy O’Loughlin say? I suppose you’ve consulted him.” “Jimmy thinks,” said Mr. Goddard, “that the sergeant’s afraid to come back on account of Miss Blow. But that’s all rot, of course.” “I’m not at all sure that Jimmy’s not right. He’s a very shrewd man, Jimmy O’Loughlin. I shouldn’t wonder a bit----” “But what the deuce am I to do?”