"All right. You are welcome to Crawley. Must you take Sophy?"
"I must. She is the only one in our party who is familiar with M. Felix. If we hunt Peterssen down, M. Felix will most likely be with him, and Sophy is at hand for the purpose of identification. Should I have reason to believe we have struck the right trail, I will wire to you, and you can come on to us. Say agreed, old fellow."
"Agreed, old fellow."
After that Bob and I were closeted together for an hour, setting down all our arrangements in black and white; then I prepared to depart.
"Good luck, Agnold," said the faithful Bob. "Send for me soon."
"As soon as I can. I want you to be in at the death."
I spoke these words lightly, with no notion of their ominous significance, and a carriage and pair having been got ready for us, Crawley, Sophy, and I took our seats in it, and bowled along to Monkshead. We arrived there at noon on the following day, and at the post-office I found two telegrams sent by Bob, one from himself saying that stagnation was the order of things, the other a copy of one forwarded from Emilia in London, in which she said that she had not heard from M. Bordier, and expected that he was on his way to her. The whole of the afternoon I was engaged in the attempt to discover whether any persons answering to the description of Dr. Peterssen and his companions had made any stay in Monkshead. I learnt nothing of a satisfactory nature, and, thoroughly exhausted, I was discontentedly refreshing the inner man, Sophy sitting at the same table with me, when Crawley, who had been out making inquiries, came in with a man who looked like what he was--a tramp.
"Here's a fellow," said Crawley, "who can tell us something."
"If I'm paid for it," said the tramp.
"You shall be paid for your trouble," I said, giving him a shilling. "This is on account. You shall have another if your information is satisfactory."