"I know all about that, Sir Karl," was the reply. "To tell you the truth, I should have made my presence here at Foxwood known to you at once, and asked you to aid me in my search; but I was warned at Scotland Yard that you might possibly obstruct my work instead of aiding it, for that you wished to screen Salter." "Scotland Yard warned you of that!" exclaimed Sir Karl. "Yes. They had it from Grimley." "The case is this," said Sir Karl, wishing with his whole heart he could undo what he had done. "Some short while back, I had a reason for making some enquiries respecting Philip Salter, and I went to my solicitors, Plunkett and Plunkett. They could not give me any information, and referred me to Mr. Burtenshaw. Burtenshaw introduced Grimley to me, and I saw them both twice. But I most certainly never intended to imply that Salter was in this neighbourhood, or to afford just grounds for sending down to institute a search after him." "But I presume that you do know Salter is here, Sir Karl." "Indeed I do not." The officer was silent. He thought Sir Karl was intending to deceive him. "I can tell you that he is here, Sir Karl--to the best of my belief. I could put out my hand at this minute and almost touch the dwelling that contains him." They were nearly opposite the Maze gates, close upon the gate of Clematis Cottage. Karl wondered, with an anxiety, amounting to agony, _which_ of the two dwellings was meant. It would be almost as bad for this man to take Salter as to take Adam Andinnian, since the capture of the former might lead to that of the latter. "You say to the best of your belief, Mr. Tatton. You are not sure, then?" "I am as sure as I can be, Sir Karl, short of actual sight." "Good night, Sir Karl." The interruption came from Mr. Smith, who was leaning over his gate, smoking a pipe. Karl returned the salutation and passed on. "He seems to have a jolly kind of easy life of it, that agent of yours, Sir Karl?" remarked the officer. "Do you know him?" questioned Karl. "Only by sight. I have seen Mr. Smith about on the land; and I took the liberty this afternoon, meeting him by chance near the Brook field, of asking him what the time was. The spring of my watch broke last night as I was winding it." Karl's heart was beating. Had he been mistaken in supposing Philip Smith to be Philip Salter? Had he been nursing a foolish chimera, and running his head--or, rather, his poor brother's head--into a noose for nothing? God help him, then! "You seem to know my agent well by sight," he breathed, in a tone kept low, lest its agitation should be heard. "Quite well," assented the officer. "Is he--does he bear any resemblance to Salter?" "Not the slightest." Karl paused. "You are sure of that?" Tatton took a look at Sir Karl in the evening dusk, as if not able to understand him. "He is about the height of Salter, and in complexion is somewhat, similar, if you can call that a resemblance," said he. "There is no other."