"I am absolutely sure we needn't fear anything of the sort, because I have the best of reasons for being positive that no one has the slightest inkling of the secret," Gimblet assured him. "There is a whole gang of scoundrels after the document of which your uncle told me, who are ready to spend any money, or risk any penalty, in order to obtain it. They will not be deterred even by having to pay for it with their lives. You may be quite sure that if anyone had suspected where it was concealed, it would not have been allowed to remain there, and we should find the cache empty. But we may safely argue that they have not found it, since in that case they certainly would not hang about the neighbourhood."
"Do you mean to say," cried Mark, "that you think there are any of these Nihilist people lurking about? That letter which came for Uncle Douglas—the letter from Paris—I guessed it meant something of the sort."
"There is a foreigner staying at Crianan," said Gimblet, "whom I have every reason to suspect. More than that, there has been a Russian in your very midst who, I am afraid, you will be shocked to hear, is hand in glove with him."
"Whom do you mean?" exclaimed Mark, "not—not Julia Romaninov?" It seemed to the detective that he winced as he uttered the name of the girl. Silently Gimblet bowed his head, and for a minute the two men stood without a word. "Then," stammered Mark, "you think that she—that she—Oh," he cried, "I can hardly believe that!"
Gimblet did not reply, but after a few moments walked over to the writing-table and spread out a piece of notepaper. He kept his back turned towards the young man, who seemed thankful for an opportunity to recover his composure.
His face was still working nervously, however, when at length the detective turned and held out a pen towards him.
"Will you not write at once to General Tenby?" he suggested.
Mark sat down before the blotting-pad.
"He will be at home," he said mechanically. "This weather will have driven them in early if they have been shooting."
The note was written and dispatched by a groom on horseback, and then
Gimblet bade au revoir to his host at the door of the castle.