"And I'll deal with him myself," said Joe. "I'll make them eyes of yours blacker than they are by nature." "Leave him alone, Joe. He'll go now." "I won't go!" cried the man. "I'll have my price." Alan shrugged his shoulders. "I shall have to give you that thrashing, after all." "Let me do it, sir," put in Mr. Brill, who was simply spoiling for a row, and he stepped towards Lestrange. The man's courage, genuine enough of its kind, suddenly gave way before the ferocity of the sailor. He sprang up, ran into an inner room and bolted the door. Joe uttered the roar of a baffled tiger. "Never mind, Joe; we're quit of him now. He will leave Heathton." "I'll wait for him at the station," muttered Joe, following the young Squire out of doors. "'Tain't right that the swab should get off scot-free." Outside the rain had ceased. Alan looked at his watch, and finding that it was late, turned his face towards home. Suddenly he recollected that Joe had not explained his absence. "Well, Joe, where have you been?" he asked sharply. "After him." Joe pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "When master's body was carried away, I thought that shark might have done it. I know'd he was coming from Jamaica, so I went to Southampton to see when he arrived." "You did not see him?" "No," was the gloomy reply. "But I seed the list of passengers in one of them boats, and his name wos on it. He couldn't have done it!" "I found that out myself. No; Lestrange is innocent." "If I'd know'd he wos on his way here to make trouble with missy, I'd have waited," said the sailor; "but I thought if I dropped across him I'd keep him off." "He stole a march on you, Joe. And you have been at Southampton all this time?" "I have, sir--there and in London. But it's all right now, Mr. Alan. He won't worry Miss Sophy any more. But now you know, sir, why I gave a sov. to that tramp. He talked about one as sent him, and I thought he wos talking of Captain Jean, so I hurried him away as soon as I could, lest Miss Sophy should hear." "I understand, Joe. But Cicero knew nothing at that time." "Ah!" Joe clenched his fist. "He's another as needs a beating. Beg pardon, sir, but I suppose you ain't found out who killed the doctor?" "No; I believe myself it was that man Brown, who was called the Quiet Gentleman. Do you know who he was, Joe?" "No, sir, I do not," replied Joe doggedly. "Good-night, Mr. Alan," and he walked off in great haste. The young Squire pursued his way to the Abbey Farm, and all the way wondered if Joe's sudden departure hinted at an unwillingness to talk of Brown. "I'll ask him about the man to-morrow," muttered Alan. But on the morrow he had other matters to attend to. While he was at breakfast a card was brought to him and he jumped up with a joyful cry. "Inspector Blair!" he said, throwing down the card. "Show him up, Mrs. Hester. Ah! I wonder what he has found out." CHAPTER XIX. A REAPPEARANCE