"That you, Colin?" came the latter's voice. "Yes, I've just got an answer to the wire. It arrived a few minutes ago. If you hold on I'll read it out to you." There was a pause. "'Mr. Penwarren is ill in bed at Helston. As far as we are aware he has had no communication with Miss Seymour for the last eighteen months. Should be glad of an explanation.'"
"It's only what I expected," said Colin quietly. "There must be something wrong, or Nancy would have let us know long before this."
"Have you told the police?"
"Not yet. I went up to the Yard, but Marsden hadn't arrived, so I thought I'd better wait until we got the reply from Helston."
"Where are you telephoning from?"
"Westminster Bridge Station. I've arranged to meet Joe close by here, and, unless anything's happened, he ought to be along in a few minutes. By that time Marsden will probably have turned up."
There was a pause.
"Well, I'm ready when you want me," observed Mark. "In case there's going to be trouble, you can count me in to the limit."
"I know that," returned Colin gratefully. "If there's any possible way in which you can be of help I'll ring you up and let you know."
He put down the receiver, and, leaving the station, walked slowly round the corner on to the Embankment. A few yards past the entrance to the Yard, on the opposite side of the road, were a couple of empty seats facing the river. He crossed over toward the first one, and, having lighted himself a cigarette, sat down patiently to wait for Joe.