"He had to be carried down, sir, by the two men between them. As Dobson said, 'He couldn't put one foot before the other.' I just caught a glimpse of him and it was enough to make my heart ache. His face looked more like that of a corpse than of a still breathing man."
Burgo's heart ached too, but the grief he felt was largely leavened with indignation. That his uncle in the course of a few short hours should have changed so radically for the worse was to his mind consistent with one theory, and one only. Sir Everard had had some drug, or pill, or potion administered to him which had brought on a sudden relapse, and had thereby incapacitated him for protesting against, or offering any opposition to, whatever arrangements his wife might choose to make. Burgo cursed her ladyship in his heart as he sat there.
A minute or two passed before he could control himself sufficiently to question Polly further.
Then he said: "I suppose you didn't happen to overhear for what place her ladyship was bound? It would most likely be some place abroad--perhaps in Italy or the South of France."
"The label on her ladyship's trunk was directed to some place--it was a queer name, and I can't quite call it to mind--'near Oakbarrow station.'"
"What!" exclaimed Burgo, with a burst of amazement. "Are you sure of that, Polly?"
"I read it with my own eyes, sir."
"This is news indeed! Was the name of the place you can't quite call to mind Garion Keep?"
Polly considered for a moment or two with a finger pressed to her lips. Then she said with an air of conviction, "Yes, sir, that was it--I'm sure of it now--Garion Keep; and a very funny name I thought it."
"That old scoundrel at No. 22 lied to me in order to put me off the scent," said Burgo to himself; "whether of his own accord or by her ladyship's instructions does not matter now."