"Then you don't believe in the trip to Dublin?"
"Not a bit. While so far there's not a morsel of evidence against him, I'm morally certain he was on his way to Antwerp and thence to Amsterdam with those diamonds, and when he found he was followed doubled back. Come up to-morrow and meet me at Bow Street at noon. Good-bye."
Martin spent a very pleasant evening with the Staffords. Their nephew, Fred Carden, furnished the topic of conversation for the evening, and it naturally brought Martin himself somewhat into the conversation—and never had a narrator a more attentive and enthusiastic audience.
Knowing nothing about the engagement between Kate and Hall, Martin, who from the day he had carried her home had found himself thinking more and more about her, now noted with pleasure her interest in everything he said concerning himself. It was not so much lack of interest concerning her cousin, as increased interest when he spoke of himself.
CHAPTER VII.
"Now for Harley Street," muttered Blount, as he alighted from the train in London, and though it was 9 o'clock, he did not despair of finding either his man or something about him.
The motherly old lady who answered his summons at the door, was very much like the house—old-fashioned, but eminently respectable.
In the most innocent manner in the world she invited Blount into the sitting-room, but he did not accept the invitation until he had asked if Mr. Hall was at home, and she had answered that Mr. Hall had left town for a few days.
This was a disappointment, but at any rate he would find out what she knew about his movements, and sitting just a little in the shade with the old lady just a little in the light, Blount fired question after question, until even unsuspicious she began to wonder what it all meant. Quick to note this Blount stopped, and thanking her left No. — Harley Street—very much puzzled and disappointed. All his theories were knocked to the winds by that half-hour's conversation.