Mr. Touris twitched back a little in his chair. "Don't you know? I thought perhaps that you did."
"I ceased to follow him two years ago. I dived into the East, and I have been long where you do not hear from the West."
The other fingered his wine-glass. "Well, I haven't heard myself, for quite a while.... You would think that he might come back to England now. But he can't. Doubtless he would never wish to come again to Black Hill. But England, now.... But they are ferocious yet against every head great and small of the attempt. And I am told there are aggravating circumstances. He had worn the King's coat. He was among the plotters and instigators. He broke prison. Impossible to show mercy!" Mr. Touris twitched again. "That's a phrase like a gravestone! If the Almighty uses it, then of course he can't be Almighty.... Well, the moral is that none named Ian Rullock can come again to Scotland or England."
"Have you knowledge that he wishes to do so?"
Mr. Touris moved again. "I don't know.... I told you that we hadn't heard. But—"
He stopped and sat staring into his wine-glass. Alexander read on as by starlight: "But I did hear—through old channels. And there is danger of his trying to return."
The master of Black Hill put the wine to his lips. "And so you have been everywhere?"
"No. But in places where I had not been before."
"The East India has ways of gathering information. Through Goodworth I can get at a good deal when I want to.... There is Wotherspoon, also. I am practically certain that Ian is in France."
"When did he write?"