The silence and gloom that hung over the mansion was too marked to pass unnoticed by so keen an observer.
Wondering as to the cause, Vernet pulled the bell, and boldly handed his professional card to the serious-faced footman who opened the door.
In obedience to instructions, the servant glanced at the card, and reading thereon the name and profession of the applicant, promptly admitted him, naturally supposing him to be connected with the search for little Daisy.
“Tell your master,” said Vernet, as he was ushered into the library, “tell your master that I must see him at once. My business is urgent, and my time limited.”
The servant turned upon him a look of surprise.
“Do you mean Mr. Archibald Warburton, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Then it will be impossible. Mr. Warburton has been dangerously sick since yesterday. The shock—Mr. Alan receives all who have business.”
Mentally wondering what the servant could mean, for in the intensity of his interest in his new search, he had not informed himself as to the late happenings that usually attract the attention of all connected with the police, and was not aware of the disappearance of Archibald Warburton’s little daughter, Vernet said briefly, and as if he perfectly understood it all:
“Nevertheless, you may deliver my message.”