"So I saw," said the Earl. "I'd watched you come across from the Bank. Is there any news this morning?"
"Come up to my sitting-room and let us talk," said Betty. She led the way upstairs and closed her door on herself and her visitor. "No news of my uncle," she continued, turning to the Earl. "Have you any?"
The Earl shook his head disappointedly.
"No!" he replied. "I wish I had! I myself and a lot of my men have been searching all round Ellersdeane—practically all night. We've made inquiries at each of the neighbouring villages—without result. Have the police heard anything?—I've only just come into town."
"You haven't seen Polke, then?" said Betty. "Oh, well, he heard something last night." She went on to tell the Earl of the meeting with the tinker, and of Mrs. Pratt's account of the mysterious stranger, and of what Starmidge was now doing. "It all seems such slow work," she concluded, "but I suppose the police can't move any faster."
"You heard nothing at the bank itself—from the Chestermarkes?" asked the Earl.
"I heard sufficient to make me as—as absent-minded as I was when you met me just now! I went there, as my uncle's nearest relation, with a simple request to see his papers and things—a very natural desire, surely. The Chestermarkes have locked up his rooms—and they ordered me out—showed me the door!"
"How very extraordinary!" exclaimed the Earl. "Really!—in so many words?"
"I think Joseph had the grace to say I had better go away," said Betty. "And Gabriel—who called me a young woman—told me to go and see a solicitor, which, of course," she added reflectively, "is precisely what I shall do—as they will very soon find!"
The Earl stepped over to one of the windows, and stood for a moment or two silently looking out on the Market-Place.