"Yes, sir--know him well, sir--by sight, sir," he said, brimming the empty glass with champagne. "H'old gentleman, sir--bin in the army--'ad two daughters."
"Two daughters?" repeated Dowker eagerly.
"Yes, sir--Miss Amelia and Miss Helena, sir--twins--as fine-looking gals as you ever saw, sir--tall, 'andsome, and golden 'air."
"Oh, indeed!" replied Dowker indifferently. "And are they living with Captain Dicksfall?"
"No, sir," said Martin gravely. "You see, sir, Miss Helena fell in love with a gent who was stopping at the Pavilion, sir, and went off with him."
"What was his name?"
"Don't know, sir. He called himself Carrill, but they do say it was not his right name."
"Humph!"
Dowker pondered a little over this. It was as he had thought after reading the letters. Lord Calliston had masqueraded at Folkestone under the name of Carrill, and had inveigled Helena Dicksfall away from home, and kept her in St. John's Wood as "Lena Sarschine."
"And the other young lady," he asked, "Miss Amelia?"