"McAllister! Why, of course I do. I have known them for years."
"Oh, my good sir, you have relieved my mind of a heavy burden. For the last three weeks my clerk and I have been searching every churchyard round about here for the name, and have hitherto failed to find it. To-night the idea entered my head that you might know."
"My head, if you please," murmured young Brown sotto voce.
"I shall be most happy to be of any service to you," said M. Bois-le-Duc. "Madame McAllister, with her son Noël, lives about three miles down the road. You cannot mistake the cottage. It is a plain white one with a red-tiled roof—the only red-roofed cottage on the road."
"Thank you very much, sir," said Webster.
"You will like Noël McAllister," went on the curé; "he is a fine manly young fellow, and was my pupil for many years, so I know him well."
"I am infinitely obliged to you, sir," said Webster, gratefully. "I suppose we may call at the cottage the first thing in the morning. The only house on the road with a red-tiled roof you said? Thanks. We shall not detain you longer. Good-evening, sir, good-evening."
And Webster, having obtained the desired information, marched off with his clerk, leaving the curé in wondering perplexity as to his relations with the McAllisters.