At that hour a policeman left his cottage in a village on the Yorkshire coast, and walked leisurely toward the Grange House.
He traversed four miles of rough country, and the sun was hot, so he did not hurry. About half-past six he reached the farm. There were no signs of activity such as may be expected in the country at that hour.
He examined three sides of the building carefully—the sea front was inaccessible—and waited many minutes before he knocked at the door. There was no answer. He knocked again more loudly. The third time his summons would have aroused the Seven Sleepers, but none came.
He tried the door, and rattled it; peered in at the windows; stood back in the garden, and looked up at the bedrooms.
"A queer business," he muttered, as he turned unwillingly to leave the place.
"Ay, a very queer business," he said, again. "I must go on to Scarsdale, an' mak' inquiries aboot this Dr. Williams afore I report to t' super."
CHAPTER XXI.
The Rescue.
When Philip's almost lifeless body was flung over the cliff it rushed down through the summer air feet foremost. Then, in obedience to the law of gravity, it spun round until, at the moment of impact with the water, the head and shoulders plunged first into the waves.