“I do wish I could persuade you,” Solent began, when they were still some two and a half miles from their destination, “to give me some sort of notion of what Mr. Urquhart really expects from me. I’ve never made any historical researches in my life. I’ve only compiled wretched summaries from books that everyone can get. What will he want me to do? Go searching round in parish-registers and so on?”

The driver’s gaze, directed obstinately to the grey tail of their slow-moving horse, remained unresponsive to the querulousness of this appeal.

“I have a notion, Solent,” he remarked, “that you’ll get light on a great many things as soon as you’ve seen Mr. Urquhart.”

Wolf pulled down the corners of his mouth and lifted his thick eyebrows.

“The devil!” he thought. “That’s just about what my friend Miss Gault hinted.”