"I hardly understand you, Arthur; but perhaps you are right. At all events, you agree to say nothing to your father,--to leave it to me?"
"Certainly," said Caterham. He had won the day; but his mother's manner had no sign of defeat about it, no more than it had sign of softening. She rose, and bade him goodmorning. He held her hand for a moment, and his eyes followed her wistfully, as she went out of his room.
As she passed through the passage, just outside her son's door she saw a stout keen-looking man sitting on the bench, who rose and bowed as she passed.
When Stephens answered the bell, he found his master lying back, bloodless and almost fainting. After he had administered the usual restoratives, and when life seemed flowing back again, the valet said,
"Inspector Blackett, my lord, outside."
Lord Caterham made a sign with his hand, and the stout man entered.
"The usual story, Blackett, I suppose?"
"Sorry to say so, my lord. No news. Two of my men tried Maidstone again yesterday, and Canterbury, thinking they were on the scent there; but no signs of her."
"Very good, Blackett," said Caterham faintly; "don't give in yet."
Then, as the door closed behind the inspector, the poor sufferer looked up heavenward and muttered, "O Lord, how long--how long?"