'Ready to make himself useful,' muttered Mr. Higlett. 'I should like to have a look round these gentlemen's rooms.'
Being duly armed with authority, this privilege was allowed Mr. Higlett. He examined bedchambers and sitting-room, looked at the few and simple belongings of the travellers, who were naturally not encumbered with much luggage. Finding little to employ him here, Mr. Higlett took a snack of lunch in the public parlour, heard the gossip of the loungers at the bar through the half-open door, meditated, smoked a pipe, and went out into the high road.
He met Smelt, who seemed dispirited.
'Nothing turned up?' asked Higlett.
'Less than half nothing. How's yourself?'
'Well, I think I'm on the right lay. But it's rather dark at present.'
They went back to the inn together, conferring in half-whispers. A quarter of an hour later, Maurice Clissold returned from his mission. He looked pale and wearied, and hardly saw the two men whom he passed in the porch. He had scarcely entered the house when these two men came close up to him, one on each side.
'I arrest you on suspicion of being concerned in the murder of James Penwyn,' said Higlett.
'And bear in mind that anything you say now will be used against you by and by,' remarked Smelt.