"If your lordship will think for a moment," said Joseph, "you will see that it is not merely not impossible, but very easy. Horbury was a great pedestrian—he used to boast of his thirty and forty mile walks. Now we are well within twenty miles of Ecclesborough. Ecclesborough is a very big town. What was there to prevent Horbury, during Saturday night, from walking across country to Ecclesborough? Nothing! If, after interviewing that strange man, he decided to clear out at once, he'd nothing to do but set off—over a very lonely stretch of country, every inch of which he knew—to Ecclesborough: he would be in Ecclesborough by an early hour in the morning. Now in Ecclesborough there are three stations—big stations. He could get away from any one of them—what booking-clerk or railway official would pay any particular attention to him? The thing is—ridiculously easy!"
"What of the other man?" asked the Earl. "If there were two men—together—at an early hour—eh?"
"They need not have caught a train at a very early hour," replied Joseph. "They need not have been together when they caught any train. I don't say they went together—I don't say they went to Ecclesborough—I don't say they caught a train: I only say what, it must be obvious, they easily could do without attracting attention."
"The fact of Horbury's disappearance is—unchallengeable," remarked Gabriel quietly. "We—know why he disappeared."
"I should think," said Joseph, still more quietly, "that Lord Ellersdeane also knows—by now."
"No, I don't!" exclaimed the Earl, a little sharply. "I wish I did!"
Joseph pointed to the casket.
"Why have the police been officially—and officiously—searching the house, then?" he asked.
"To see if they could get any clue to his disappearance," replied the Earl.
"And they found—that!" retorted Joseph.