As a matter of fact, he had plenty of proof. Had he not seen the girl hastening away from his boat? Had he not seen her return after the boat had been beached and mourn over the wreck like some creature suffering from deep remorse?
But of this he could say nothing. To speak of it would be to betray the fact that Tchigorsky was still alive and active in pursuit of the foe.
"That woman can be found," Ravenspur said sternly.
"I doubt it," said Geoffrey. "She has a way of disappearing that is remarkable. You see her one moment and the next she has vanished. But I am certain that she is at the bottom of the mischief."
And Geoffrey refused to say more. As a matter of fact, nobody seemed to care to hear anything further. They were worn out with anxiety and exertion. They had had little food that day; the weary hours on the beach had exhausted them.
"For the present we can rest and be thankful," Ravenspur said as he rose to go. "We can sleep with easy minds to-night."
They moved off after him, all but Geoffrey and Vera. Mrs. Gordon could still be heard moving about one of the drawing rooms. Marion had slipped off unobserved. She hardly felt equal to bidding Geoffrey good-night. The tender smile was still on her face as she crept upstairs.
Then when she reached her room it faded away. She flung herself across the bed and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. And then gradually she sobbed herself into a heavy yet uneasy slumber.
"Well, I suppose I must go, too?" Vera said, tired out, yet reluctant to leave her lover. "Tell me what it means, Geoff?"
"Have I not already explained to you, darling?"