"Well, Roarke, are you ready for business?"
And the tramp replied: "You bet, if it's a solid racket."
"Then follow me, at a distance, until we reach a place where we can talk things over." And Mr. Belknap moved on, never once glancing back.
The tramp once more seated himself beside the fence, and resumed his occupation. When the last scrap of food was devoured, he arose, and, taking up a rough stick that served as a cane, he followed the receding form of the private detective.
At sunset, Ray Vandyck presented himself punctually for further instructions, at Wardour.
"You are released, Ray," said Constance, coming to meet him, with a bright face and a warm hand-clasp. "You are free to follow your own devices; Doctor Heath has a better guardian than either you or I."
"Cool, upon my word," said Ray, with a grimace. "So I am discharged without references?"
"Even so, and you must be content without an explanation, too, for the present. My tongue is still tied."
"Worse and worse, Conny; can't I even know who has supplanted me?"
"It's a great secret, and must be carefully guarded, but, I believe I will confide that much to you, as it does not conflict with any promises."
"Well! I listen."
"Doctor Heath is protected by an able detective. His name I must not communicate."
Ray Vandyck opened wide his handsome eyes, and gave vent to a long, low whistle.
"Conny, you are too deep for me," he said; "I am all at sea; I will drop the subject, as it is working severely upon my curiosity."
For a few moments they sat in silence, Constance thinking how much she regretted not asking Mr. Bathurst to make himself known to this loyal friend, who must now be kept in ignorance, however worthy he might be of all confidence, and Ray thinking of something that caused his face to sadden, and his eyes to darken with inward pain. Presently he drew a little nearer his hostess, and asked, in a low, sorrowful tone:
"Conny, have you seen her lately?"
"Not for a week or more, Ray."
"I saw her yesterday."
"And she," anxiously; "did she see you, Ray?"
"No, thank God! she was driving with her mother, and, Con.," his voice broke and he turned his face away; "I wish you would go to her."
"Why, Ray?"
"Because—oh, you should have seen her face. She is suffering horribly; she is dying by inches."