In an instant, Sir Harold, Atkins and Ryan crowded around our hero, all eagerness and excitement.
“Is she here, at Inverness?” cried Atkins. “Have you seen her?”
“No; she is hidden among the Highlands, up in Ross and Cromarty. She is safe and well.”
“But how do you know it?” demanded Ryan, full of professional zeal and jealousy at once.
Lord Towyn took in his own the right hand of Sir Harold and pressed it, as he answered gravely:
“I have seen Craven Black!”
A series of exclamations burst from the earl’s hearers. Sir Harold Wynde trembled like a leaf, and turned his back upon the keen-eyed detective.
“Black is here?” ejaculated Ryan, all thoughts of “the mysterious Mr. Hunlow” lost in his sudden amazement. “Then our trip to Scotland was not a wild-goose chase, after all? Tell me where he is, my lord;” and Ryan took a step toward the door.
“Leave the management of the affair to me for the present, Ryan,” said Lord Towyn. “You have placed us on the right track, and you shall have all the credit for doing so, but we want no arrests, no noise, no scandal. The matter must be hushed up for family reasons. No whisper must go forth to the world of the wickedness of Lady Wynde. The failure of the conspirators must be their punishment.”
“Yes, yes,” said Sir Harold. “The earl is right. There must be no scandal.”