"Do take care of yourself, darling," she pleaded. "Of course," he kissed her, "but you need have no fear; the luck has changed since our marriage."
Elspeth felt that this was so, as she stood watching him from the window. Assuredly, her heart was light enough, and she had no premonition of evil. Perhaps after all, their separate bad lucks had combined to form one good one, as Herries fancifully imagined. Yet she dreaded to think that anything should happen to destroy the new and wonderful life which was now hers, and went to her room to pray earnestly that Angus might be successful in his mission.
But what was his mission? Angus did not know very well himself as the train steamed towards Desleigh. It seemed to him that he could do very little towards elucidating the mystery of his uncle's death. He was ignorant of all things, since he had been asleep during the commission of the crime. But Gowrie might have learned something, and Herries privately suspected that Gowrie had been wide awake all that eventful night. Also, since he had been wandering over the house, he might have chanced on some suspicious circumstances. At all events, the old man had evidently found out something, when he sent so peremptory a note. It was, therefore, with great surprise that Herries, on arriving at the inn, was met with the news that Gowrie was not within.
"Where is he?" he asked the new maid, Alice, who gave him this information in the well-known tap-room.
"I can't tell you, sir," she replied, timidly. "He went out last night just before dinner, and never came back."
"Strange," Herries recalled the omitted Desleigh post-mark, and felt uneasy. "Can I see Mrs. Narby?"
"Missus have gone to London to see her son."
"And the landlord?"
"He's in London, too, seeing about selling the inn," said Alice, glibly.
"Selling the inn?"