"But the man from Silverdale?" asked Mrs. Macdonald.
"I'm afraid," said Ferris, with the air of one shielding a friend, "I can't tell you anything about him."
"I know Mr. Courthorne drove in that night," said the young English girl, who was not endued with very much discretion.
"Courthorne," said one of the bystanders, and there was a momentary silence that was very expressive. "Was he concerned in what took place, Ferris?"
"Yes," said the lad with apparent reluctance. "Mrs. Macdonald, you will remember that they dragged it out of me, but I will tell you nothing more whatever."
"It seems to me you have told us quite sufficient and perhaps a trifle too much," said somebody.
There was a curious silence. All of those present were more or less acquainted with Courthorne's past history, and the suggestion of foul play coupled with the mention of a professional gambler had been significant. Ferris, while committing himself in no way, had certainly said sufficient. Then there was a sudden turning of heads as a young woman moved quietly into the midst of the group. She was ominously calm, but she stood very straight, and there was a little hard glitter in her eyes, which reminded one or two of the men who noticed it of those of Colonel Barrington. The fingers of one hand were also closed at her side. "I overheard you telling a story, Ferris, but you have a bad memory and left rather too much out," she said.
"They compelled me to tell them what I did, Miss Barrington," said the lad, who winced beneath her gaze. "Now there is really nothing to be gained by going any further into the affair. Shall I play something for you, Mrs. Macdonald?"
He turned as he spoke and would have edged away, but that one of the men at a glance from the girl laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't be in a hurry, Ferris. I fancy Miss Barrington has something more to tell you," he said dryly.