"I shall act myself. At present it is not a matter for the police. Certain facts have come to my knowledge which, if told at Scotland Yard, would not be believed. Therefore at present I intend to keep my knowledge strictly to myself," and replacing the dead man's message in its envelope, I put it safely into my breast-pocket, and, taking leave of the solicitor, was soon in my taxi whirling along Holborn. Why had Nicholson suspected that Shaw's affection for his foster-daughter was only feigned? Why did he allege that Shaw hated her? Why was he in such mortal terror lest some evil should befall her? Perhaps, after all, in watching so closely he had, as is so easy, discovered certain circumstances and misjudged them, for certainly as far as I could see Shaw was entirely devoted to the girl who had been his constant companion ever since her childhood days. Nevertheless, that strange letter, penned by the man whose intention it had been to reveal to me the secret of the weird shadow of the night, had caused me to determine to continue the vigil which had been so abruptly ended. I, too, would watch closely as soon as I learnt of their hiding-place, as closely as the dead man had done. If Asta were in actual peril, then I would stand as her protector in place of the upright, honest young fellow who, it seemed, had lost his life in the attempt. But the days, nay weeks, went on. September ended and October came with rain and chilly wind, and though I returned to Upton End, and frequently made inquiry over the telephone to Lydford, yet, though I wrote to Davis at the Poste Restante at Charing Cross, I could learn no news of them. They had descended those back stairs of the hotel at Aix, and disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed them up. One day in the middle of October, with sudden resolve to carry out Nicholson's injunction to investigate, I drove over to Lydford, and on arrival, about noon, found all smart and well-kept as though its owner were in residence. I told a rather lame story to the housekeeper, who, knowing me, came to me in the long, chintz-covered drawing-room, the blinds of which were down. She had not heard from her master for a month past, the pleasant-faced woman explained. He was then in Aix. I said that I had left him there and returned to England, and was now anxious to discover where he was. Then, after a brief chat, I exhibited my left forefinger enveloped in an old glove, and told her that on my way I had some engine-trouble and had hurt my finger. "I believe Mr Shaw keeps up in his room a small medicine chest," I said, for I recollected that he once told me that he kept one there. "I wonder if I might go up and try and find a piece of bandage."