"Yes. He came in a quarter of an hour ago, all puffing and blowing and covered with mud. Now he's talking to Sweetlips Kind, who wants to earn the reward. But he shan't, he shan't," cried Pope, clenching his lean, hard fist, "I'll get it. I'm going out to-morrow with some bread and cheese in my pocket, and will not come back until I find the man who killed Sir Simon." "Then find the man in the fur coat." "No, it's that Mr. Herries, and I'll ask Armour if he saw him. You know Armour's ill in bed, Elspeth. Inspector Trent went to see him before he left for Tarhaven. Armour sticks to his story of being carried away by men; they were sailors." "Sailors," echoed Elspeth, stopping short in front of the inn, "how does Armour know that?" "He saw, just for one moment before they muffled his head, that one had on a pea-jacket with brass buttons. I heard Inspector Trent say to Sweetlips Kind, that he expected they were sailors from Pierside, and that he is going over there to-morrow." "I don't see what sailors have to do with the matter," said Elspeth half to herself, and now standing directly before the door. She must have raised her voice unconsciously, for Mrs. Narby heard her words, and flung open the door, with a volley of bad language. "Come in, come in," yelped the gross landlady. "'Ow do y' do, me fine Duchess, stravaging abaut win there's work t' do. I'll pull th' bloomin' 'air out of yer 'orrid 'ead." She made as to do it, but Elspeth slipped under her extended arm, and flew into the tap-room. "Stop," she said in a commanding voice, which drew every eye to her, as the infuriated Mrs. Narby flung forward to enjoy her favourite pastime. "If you lay a finger on me, I'll give you in charge to the policeman who is watching the dead body upstairs." The landlady was so amazed at the turning of the worm, that she fell back against the wall and gasped. Dr. Browne, who was talking in undertones to Kind in a corner, looked approvingly at the girl, who was thus defying her bully. Narby turned and stared in surprise, as he was handing a pewter of beer to a yokel, and every man in the tap-room--and it was quite full--waited with bated breath to see what the redoubtable landlady would do. She gasped like a cod-fish and opened her mouth to speak twice and thrice, only to be quelled by the calm gaze of the girl she had tortured for so long. "I had your permission," went on Elspeth, oblivious of her startled audience, "to visit Mrs. Kind, who is seriously ill, and you did not mention any time for me to return. I have been your slave and your drudge long enough, and to-morrow I intend to leave, if you drive me to it, I'll leave to-night." "You--you--slut," shouted Mrs. Narby, almost too furious to speak. "Stop calling me names. Mr. Narby, while I remain here, I appeal to you for protection."