Carlos sighed, but did not reply, as they stepped into a hack. They were driven rapidly through the lively streets of the busy village, and conveyed to a hospitable-looking hotel. A pleasant room, which commanded a fine view of the ocean in the distance, was placed at their disposal.
After an hour’s rest and a good supper, they approached the hotel clerk, Leonard saying:
“I believe that Colonel Conrad is a resident of this place?”
“Yes, sir, he is,” replied the clerk.
“Can you inform me where he lives?”
“He lives on his place—Elm Grove—about a mile out of the village.”
“In what direction is Elm Grove?”
“Straight north, on this street—Main street it is called.”
“Thank you.”
And the cousins stepped aside.