"That's it, straight ahead," said the man, pointing to what appeared to be a private residence. In former days it had been the house of the Governor of that noble settlement.
"Good-morning sir," said Hal, to a man who was holding up the door of the hotel with his shoulder.
"Good-morning gentlemen," and he straightened himself and stood on one side.
"This is a pretty place."
"Yes it is, sir."
"We were expecting to find a friend of ours here with his yacht, but we can't see anything of him."
"What was his name?" asked the landlord, for it was he.
"Wyckliffe," answered Hal, carelessly, though the nerves of both he and Reg were strained to the utmost.
"He's gone, gentlemen. You are too late."
A smothered oath burst from Reg's lips.