“Yes, since you insist upon it.”
“Then you will sail for England to-morrow. I will see that your passage is engaged on one of the fast steamers. Chick will come here with the tickets, and will take you to the steamer. At London you will stop at Gray’s Hotel, in Dover Street, Piccadilly, at which place I will communicate with you. You will address me at my house, and I will arrange so that any message from you will be forwarded to me at once.”
“What sort of information must I send to you?” she asked.
“You need send none at all unless it is to the point. If you find, for instance, that the report of the death of Siren was not true—if you should become convinced that the report was a subterfuge of the family, to put a stop to gossip and to preserve a good name, you are to inform me of that.”
“But how will that be of any assistance to you?”
“It will assist me only in the dénouement. In order to compel those two plotters who have stolen the name of Dinwiddie, to confess their crimes, I must corner them. The only way in which it can be done is to threaten them with complete exposure. I think that even now you are almost in a position to make that threat, if you would do it. I must attain to that position. That is all, Nan.”
Nan smiled up at him, sadly.
“Oh, if Jimmy had only died, really, when it was supposed he did,” she said.
“Yes; or if that girl, Siren, had not left home when she did. What is the use of all that sort of reasoning, Nan? None at all. You will go?”
“Yes.”