Mr. Thaxton shook his head gravely.
"The course the detective is adopting is inevitable," he said. "We had better go to the Cedars, and see his father or mother."
"Come along, then," said the captain, who seemed all excitement and indignation, and the two gentlemen hurried off.
At the gates of the Cedars they found a policeman, and it was some moments before he would permit them to pass.
At last they succeeded in overcoming his scruples, and made their way to the house.
Mrs. Dodson came to them, pale and agitated, but her scorn at the mere idea of Leicester's committing such a deed helped to keep her up.
She answered all their questions as she had done those of the inspector.
"Leicester is not here," she said, "and I cannot tell you where he is. He often goes away suddenly and unexpectedly. He may be in London, but, if he is, he will come down at once. I have telegraphed for him and his father, who went up with Mr. Lennox. What is all this silly story about a murder, Captain Murpoint?"
The captain did his best—or pretended to do—to reassure and soothe her, and Mr. Thaxton, after a few moments' silence, asked if he could see the valet.
Mrs. Dodson dispatched a messenger to find the valet, who soon appeared, looking as bewildered as every one else.