‘’Tis no use going to him, either. I must go off at once and overtake them—lay the case before Manston, and ask him for additional and certain proofs of his first wife’s death. An up-train passes soon, I think.’
‘Where have they gone?’ said Edward.
‘To Paris—as far as Southampton this afternoon, to proceed to-morrow morning.’
‘Where in Southampton?’
‘I really don’t know—some hotel. I only have their Paris address. But I shall find them by making a few inquiries.’
The rector had in the meantime been taking out his pocket-book, and now opened it at the first page, whereon it was his custom every month to gum a small railway time-table—cut from the local newspaper.
‘The afternoon express is just gone,’ he said, holding open the page, ‘and the next train to Southampton passes at ten minutes to six o’clock. Now it wants—let me see—five-and-forty minutes to that time. Mr. Graye, my advice is that you come with me to the porter’s cottage, where I will shortly write out the substance of what he has said, and get him to sign it. You will then have far better grounds for interfering between Mr. and Mrs. Manston than if you went to them with a mere hearsay story.’
The suggestion seemed a good one. ‘Yes, there will be time before the train starts,’ said Owen.
Edward had been musing restlessly.
‘Let me go to Southampton in your place, on account of your lameness?’ he said suddenly to Graye.