"No," said Mr. Chattaway, "I think not. Miss Trevlyn heard from that man this morning, and he appears to know nothing about Rupert. He asks for news of him." "Well, it is a curious thing altogether. I shall write by to-night's post to Ray, and inquire what he means." Mr. Chattaway, suspicious Mr. Chattaway, pressed one more question. "Have you any idea at all where Rupert is likely to be? That he is in hiding, and accessible to some people, is evident from these letters. "I have already informed you that I know nothing whatever of Rupert Trevlyn," was the lawyer's answer. "Whether he is alive or whether he is dead, I know not. You cannot know less of him yourself than I do." Mr. Chattaway was obliged to be contented with the answer. He went out and proceeded direct to Mr. Flood's, and laid the letter--his letter--before him. "What sort of thing do you call that?" he intemperately uttered, when it was read. "Connell and Connell must be infamous men to write it." "Stop a bit," said Mr. Flood, who had his eyes strained on the letter. "There's more in this than meets the eye." "You don't think it's a joke--done to annoy me?" "A joke! Connell and Connell would not lend themselves to a joke. No, I don't think it's that." "Then what do you think?" Mr. Flood was several minutes before he replied, and his silence drove Mr. Chattaway to the verge of exasperation. "It is difficult to know what to think," said the lawyer presently. "I should be inclined to say they have been brought into personal communication with Rupert Trevlyn, or with somebody acting for him: perhaps the latter is the more probable. And I should also say they must have been convinced, by documentary or other evidence, that a good foundation exists for Rupert's claims to the Hold. Mr. Chattaway--if I may speak the truth to you--I should dread this letter." Mr. Chattaway felt as if a bucket of cold water had been suddenly flung over him, and was running down his back. "Why is it that you turn against me?" "_Turn_ against you! I don't know what you mean. I don't turn against you; quite the opposite. I am willing to act for you; to do anything I legally can to meet the fear." "Why _do_ you fear?" "Because Connell, Connell, and Ray are keen and cautious practitioners as well as honourable men, and I do not think they would write so decided a letter as this, unless they knew they were fully justified in doing so, and were prepared to follow it out." "You are a pretty Job's comforter," gasped Mr. Chattaway. CHAPTER LII A DAY OF MISHAPS Rebecca the servant was true and crafty in her faithfulness to her mistress, and contrived to get various dainties prepared and conveyed unsuspiciously under her apron, watching her opportunity, to the sitting-room of Madam, where they were hidden away in a closet, and the key turned upon them. So far, so good. But that was not all: the greatest difficulty lay in transporting them to Rupert.