“Did he, by Jove! Can you discover nothing from your cousin?”
“No. When he is sober, it would be useless to question him, and when he’s foxed, Coate takes good care not to let him out of his sight. He becomes a trifle fuddled nearly every night, but he doesn’t say anything to the purpose.”
“Am I to understand by that that you are present at these—er—carouses?” demanded John,
“Of course I am not! It is what Huby tells me. He is very old, and he pretends to be deaf, for he was quite sure Coate could be up to no good, as soon as he laid eyes on him. Only he cannot conceive, any more than I can, what it could be that should bring him to the Peak district, or why he should ally himself with such a poor creature as Henry.”
“I haven’t met Henry, but I apprehend you don’t think it possible that he might have hired Coate for some nefarious purpose? The fellow sounds to me very like a paid bravo.”
She considered this for a moment, but gave a decided negative. “For Coate is the master, not Henry. Besides, what use could he find for a bravo here?”
“Well, if your Cousin Henry is indeed the snirp you think him, I can only suppose that he is useful to Coate for some reason as yet hidden from us. Perhaps he is in possession of some vital secret necessary to the success of Coate’s plans.”
She looked at him sceptically. “You don’t believe that!”
“I don’t know. There must be some reason for such an ill-assorted alliance!”
“I think you must be quizzing me! Such a notion is fantastic!”