“No,” said Mr. Goddard; “I’ve come to consult you. I don’t understand——”
“Surely nobody else has bolted?”
“Sergeant Farrelly and the constable have not returned from Rosivera.”
“Dear me! I always heard that these things were infectious, like measles. One suicide, half a dozen suicides. We appear to be in for an epidemic of bolting. But I’d never have suspected the sergeant. He seemed such a solid sort of man, not the least hysterical; but you can never tell. I hope you won’t vanish to-morrow, Goddard. If you feel it coming on you, you’d better put yourself under arrest at once. Was the sergeant a married man?”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Then there’ll be no widow to make lamentation in his case. That’s a good job for you, Goddard. I don’t see how you could have got on with another woman running round after you. What about the constable?”
“He’s not married either. He’s not long enough in the service.”
“Poor fellow!” said Lord Manton. “I suppose now that this will ruin his prospects, even if he comes back.”
“Lord Manton,” said Mr. Goddard, “what do you know about that tenant of yours at Rosivera?”