"No, no--of course not," said the Rector. "Then it can't be Joe. Well, I give it up!"
"I don't," said Alan grimly. "I go to London to-morrow to solve the mystery."
This he did. He left next morning and was away for three days, leaving Mr. Phelps to console and protect Sophy from any annoyance on the part of Lestrange, who remained in the village. The Captain propitiated Mrs. Timber by the payment of a week's board and lodging in advance, and this was enough to convince the landlady that he was a most estimable person.
Naturally enough, he and Cicero Gramp came into contact, and, equally naturally, Cicero did his best to find out what business the Captain had in Heathton. But this was no easy task, for Lestrange was guarded in speech, and did not at first encourage his advances, judging very truly that Mr. Gramp was a scoundrel, and could be dangerous. But finally he decided that the gentleman in broadcloth, if properly handled, could be converted into a useful tool, and he determined to make use of him in that capacity. The intimacy began one night when Cicero, having taken more than was good for him, allowed his tongue to wag more freely than usual. Lestrange thus became aware that it could dispense useful knowledge.
"I tell you what it is, my noble Captain," said Cicero, with drunken gravity, "you are a clever man--I am another. Why shouldn't we get that reward by working together?"
"Really, my friend, I hardly see what I can do. I am a stranger here."
"That's why we ought to work together. You are not in these parts for nothing. The gossip of servants--ah!" Gramp looked significantly at Lestrange. "Oh, I heard how you were turned out of the Moat House."
"What do you mean, my dear friend?" asked the Captain, in silky tones.
"Oh! that you've got some game on--so have I. Let us work together."
"Pooh! pooh! You are talking nonsense."