Ann Hopley, key in hand, went winding through the Maze, in and out of the numberless paths. It seemed to those following, her that they only went round and round--just as it had seemed to Miss Blake that former day; and it took some time to get through it. The Reverend Mr. Cattacomb called it "a pilgrimage." She was crafty, that faithful woman. Just as she had led Miss Blake a needlessly roundabout way, so she led them now. Had she taken them direct through, who knew but they might have caught some inkling of the clue? While opening the gate, General Lloyd would have put half-a-crown into her hand. She would not take it. "I'd rather not, sir; I've done nothing to merit it. Our mistress pays us both well. Thank you, sir, all the same." "A good, respectable, honest servant, that," remarked the General, slipping the money into his pocket again. Crossing the road from the Maze, the party came right in view of Clematis Cottage and Mr. Smith, who was leaning over the gate of it and staring with all his might. He raised his hat to the ladies generally, and then accosted Sir Karl, saying he had taken the plan, asked for, to the Court. "Thank you," replied Karl. "Who _is_ that man?" cried Captain Lloyd with some energy as they went on. "I am sure I know him." "His name's Smith," replied Karl. "He is a sort of agent on my estate." "Smith--Smith! I don't recollect the name. His face is quite familiar to me, though. Where can I have seen it?" Karl longed in his heart to ask whether the face had ever belonged to the name of Salter; but he did not dare. There had been a peculiar expression in Mr. Smith's eyes as he spoke to him just now, which Karl had read rightly--he was sure Smith wanted to speak to him privately. So, after the rest had entered the home gates, he turned back. The agent had not stirred from his place. "What have those people been doing there, Sir Karl?" he asked, with a peremptory action of his hand towards the Maze. Karl explained. He did not dare do otherwise. Explained in full. "Curious fools!" cried the man angrily. "Well, no harm seems to have been done, sir. Seeing you all come out of the gate, I could not believe my eyes, or imagine what was up." "I fancied you wished to speak to me, Mr. Smith." "And so I do, Sir Karl. The letters were late this morning--did you know it? They've only just been delivered. Some accident, I suppose." "I only know that none came to Foxwood Court this morning." "Just so. Well, Sir Karl, I've had one; ten minutes ago. I wrote to make inquiries about that paragraph, in the newspaper, and this letter was the answer to mine. It is as I thought. There's nothing known or suspected at all at headquarters; neither at Scotland Yard nor Portland Island. It was the work of the penny-a-liner, hang him!----just an invention, and nothing else." "To whom did you write?"