"True, my child, most true," he responded. "On second thoughts, it would perhaps be better to leave a note for them—a carefully worded diplomatic note—not giving too much information, but just enough. Leave that to me. I'll go and get the few things together that I shall need, and you can come and help me presently. Newhaven, did you say? I'm all excitement. It's a splendid notion!"
The matter of getting from the house was not after all so great a difficulty as may be imagined, for the simple reason that that astute servant in charge of the place saw in this packing up merely the exodus of extraordinary tenants, one of whom at least had been most undesirable. That they should demand that the thing be done secretly seemed under the circumstances reasonable enough; so that the luggage was actually smuggled out of the house, and taken out to a back gate, where a hired carriage was waiting.
"I've left the note in a prominent position, explaining enough to set their minds at rest," said Daniel Meggison, chuckling to himself as he got into the carriage with the girl.
Mr. Daniel Meggison understood, of course, exactly what had happened; saw, or thought he saw, that Gilbert had cunningly determined to lift Bessie neatly out of all the business, and leave the others to face the music as best they might. Daniel felt certain that secret instructions had been given to the servants at the house—instructions which were not to include Bessie; and that Gilbert Byfield had made up his mind to play a new game for himself alone. It is probable that on the score of morality alone Daniel Meggison did not regard the matter seriously; but this proposed desertion of himself was little short of a crime.
"After this," he though to himself, "I'll put the screw on a bit. He thinks he'll play fast and loose with me; he thinks he'll leave me in the lurch—does he? He doesn't know poor old Daniel! Bessie's the ticket—and I'll stick to her through thick and thin—poor child! After all, it's rather lucky that she loves her father so fondly!"
As we already know they arrived on board the yacht Blue Bird in due course, something to the astonishment of Gilbert Byfield, and giving him a new problem to be faced. So far as the note that had been written by Daniel Meggison was concerned—a mere shadowy trail, indicating vaguely the way they had taken—that was to be found some hours later by Mr. Aubrey Meggison.
Now, Aubrey had discovered for the first time on the previous day the real secret of that mysterious fortune the origin of which had more than puzzled him from the first. He was not a brilliant youth, but he knew enough to understand that his father was probably the last man in the world ever to have money to speculate with, or ever to be lucky in any impossible speculation in which he might indulge. Aubrey had been willing enough to accept his share of that impossible fortune, and to shut his eyes resolutely to everything outside the actual good realities that came to him; but he had a feeling that in some fashion a crash would come, involving him with the rest, in the near future. The conversation he had overheard between Daniel and Gilbert Byfield had given him the clue; and he had sprung to his father's rescue with the instinct of one who desires to save himself first of all. But from that moment it became necessary that he should watch the source of the unexpected wealth, the better to be sure that that source did not run dry.
He knew that Gilbert was in a mood to kick over the traces; he was not surprised to find that the master of the house at Fiddler's Green had suddenly gone. But when he discovered that Daniel Meggison and Bessie were also missing, he began to be possessed by a great fear; and when a little later he discovered the note that had been left by his father, that fear was changed at once into a certainty of disaster.
The note had been left to him, as the eldest son, as a species of baneful legacy; it lay upon his dressing-table.
"My dear Aubrey,