Austin Ponson’s face paled as if this news was a shock.
‘Good Heavens! Parkes,’ he stammered, ‘you don’t mean to suggest—’
‘I thought, sir,’ resumed the butler smoothly, ‘that maybe Sir William had taken a sudden notion to go over and see Dr Graham. Sometimes, as you know, sir, gentlemen like to consult a medical man privately. He might have rowed himself across the river for a short cut.’
Austin seemed relieved.
‘Yes, yes, quite possible,’ he said. ‘But we ought to make sure. Run round, Innes, will you, in the car and find out.’
‘Will you see Smith, sir?’ asked the butler when Innes had gone.
Austin seemed to awake out of a reverie.
‘Yes—oh yes, I suppose so,’ he answered. ‘Yes certainly. Bring him in.’
A small, stout man, with a short brown beard stepped up. He was, he explained, boatman as well as under-gardener, and it was his custom each morning to visit the boathouse, give the boats a run over with a cloth, brush the cushions, and leave everything ready in case a boat might be required during the day. On this morning he had reached the boathouse as usual, and was surprised to find the door unlocked. Entering, he had at once noticed that the water gate connecting the basin in the house with the river was fully open, and then he saw that the Alice, the smallest of the skiffs, was missing. A glance at the rack had shown that the oars and rowlocks had also gone. He had looked round generally, but could not find any other trace of disturbance. He had immediately come up to the house to inform Sir William.
Austin Ponson had listened carefully to the man’s statement, and he now asked a question: