"Yes--so I hear, sir," replied Cousins, without a word more.
"Well, well, then, be a little more communicative, Mr. Cousins," rejoined the lawyer. "Did you see any of the family at the Park?"
"No," answered the officer; "they were all away!"
"But did not the old woman--the housekeeper--or cook--or something--tell you where they had gone to!" demanded the lawyer.
"There was no old housekeeper there," answered the officer. "They were all away together, and the house shut up."
Mr. Tims was beaten out of his impassibility, and absolutely stared. "But surely you know where they are gone to--or, at least, you guess?" he said, after a pause.
"Why, I may guess, to be sure," replied Cousins; "but that is nothing to nobody, you know. If one were to tell every thing they guess, sir, not one-half of their guesses would come true!"
Mr. Tims paused for a minute or two, seeing that, for some reason, Cousins was resolute in not saying a word upon the affairs of Sir Sidney Delaware; and, therefore, like a good tactician, finding the enemy's position impregnable in front, he determined to shift his ground, and make an attack from another quarter. "You have been, I hear, at my poor, unhappy uncle's place at Ryebury, too?" said Mr. Tims, at length. "Did you make any new discoveries? Fill your glass, Mr. Cousins."
"None that I know of, sir," replied Cousins, answering the question, and obeying the command at the same time. "The house was just as it was left, I fancy."
"But did you find nothing that might lead to the detection of the murderer?" said Mr. Tims.