“He has probably been called away by business,” remarked Captain Palliser, as he rose to go after a few minutes' casual talk with Mrs. Hibblethwaite. “It was a mistake not to leave an address behind him. Your mother is mistaken in saying that he took the mad gentleman with him. He had him removed late at night some time before he went himself.”
“Tak tha sov'rin',” said Tummas, as Palliser moved away. “I did na show thee th' atlas. Tha did na want to see it.”
“I will leave the sovereign for your mother,” said Palliser. “I'm sorry you are not in a better humor.”
His interest in the atlas had indeed been limited to his idea that it would lead to subjects of talk which might cast illuminating side-lights and possibly open up avenues and vistas. Tummas, however, having instinctively found him displeasing, he had gained but little.
Avenues and vistas were necessary—avenues through which the steps of Palford and Grimby might wander, vistas which they might explore with hesitating, investigating glances. So far, the scene remained unpromisingly blank. The American Temple Barholm had simply disappeared, as had his mysterious charge. Steps likely to lead to definite results can scarcely be taken hopefully in the case of a person who has seemed temporarily to cease to exist. You cannot interrogate him, you cannot demand information, whatsoever the foundations upon which rest your accusations, if such accusation can be launched only into thin air and the fact that there is nobody to reply to—to acknowledge or indignantly refute them—is in itself a serious barrier to accomplishment. It was also true that only a few weeks had elapsed since the accused had, so to speak, dematerialized. It was also impossible to calculate upon what an American of his class and peculiarities would be likely to do in any circumstances whatever.
In private conference, Palford and Grimby frankly admitted to each other that they would almost have preferred that Captain Palliser should have kept his remarkable suspicions to himself, for the time being at least. Yet when they had admitted this they were confronted by the disturbing possibility—suggested by Palliser—that actual crime had been or might be committed. They had heard unpleasant stories of private lunatic asylums and their like. Things to shudder at might be going on at the very moment they spoke to each other. Under this possibility, no supineness would be excusable. Efforts to trace the missing man must at least be made. Efforts were made, but with no result. Painful as it was to reflect on the subject of the asylums, careful private inquiry was made, information was quietly collected, there were even visits to gruesomely quiet places on various polite pretexts.
“If a longer period of time had elapsed,” Mr. Palford remarked several times, with some stiffness of manner, “we should feel that we had more solid foundation for our premises.”
“Perfectly right,” Captain Palliser agreed with him, “but it is lapse of time which may mean life or death to Jem Temple Barholm; so it's perhaps as well to be on the safe side and go on quietly following small clues. I dare say you would feel more comfortable yourselves.”
Both Mr. Palford and Mr. Grimby, having made an appointment with Miss Alicia, arrived one afternoon at Temple Barholm to talk to her privately, thereby casting her into a state of agonized anxiety which reduced her to pallor.
“Our visit is merely one of inquiry, Miss Temple Barholm,” Mr. Palford began. “There is perhaps nothing alarming in our client's absence.”