I could find no further trace of them.”
“You inquired at the railway?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And at the different inns?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you left the statement I wrote for you at the police station?”
“I did, sir.”
“Well, my friend, you have done all you could, and I have done all I could, and there the matter must rest till further notice. We have played our trump cards, Mr. Hartright,” continued the old gentleman when the servant had withdrawn. “For the present, at least, the women have outmanoeuvred us, and our only resource now is to wait till Sir Percival Glyde comes here on Monday next. Won’t you fill your glass again? Good bottle of port, that—sound, substantial, old wine. I have got better in my own cellar, though.”