“I am sure I do not know.”
“But I do,” and he extracted a note-book from a drawer. “Let me see, I think I have an entry somewhere here. Ah! here we are. ‘Arthur P. Heigham, Esq., passenger, per Warwick Castle, to Madeira, June 16.’ (Copied from passenger-list, Western Daily News.) His second name is Preston, is it not? Lucky I kept that. Now, the thing will be to communicate with Madeira, and see if he is still there. I can easily do that; I know a man there.”
“Have you formed any plan, then?”
“Yes,” answered Sir John, with great deliberation, “I think I see my way; but I must have time to think of it. I will speak to you about it to-morrow.”
When Lady Bellamy had gone, the little man rose, peeped round to see that nobody was within hearing, and then, rubbing his dry hands with infinite zest, said aloud, in a voice that was quite solemn in the intensity of its satisfaction,
“The Lord hath delivered mine enemies into mine hand.”
CHAPTER XL.
Two days after Sir John had been taken into confidence, Philip received a visit from Lady Bellamy that caused him a good deal of discomfort. After talking to him on general subjects for awhile, she rose to go.
“By the way, Mr. Caresfoot,” she said, “I really had almost forgotten the object of my visit. You may remember a conversation we had together some time ago, when I was the means of paying a debt owing to you?”
Philip nodded.