"There's no doubt in my mind that your cunning brother sent you here to spy on me, on my work in its possible relation to his own, and to find out why I reengaged Orkins. But you haven't learned very much, have you?"
"To tell you the truth, I haven't," I replied, nonchalantly. "I'm not the sort of person gifted to see through a brick wall."
"Well, as you haven't found out anything," LaRauche thundered, "the next best thing to do is to go home, and report to your meddlesome brother that you haven't." As he concluded, he waved a hand towards the door.
With a polite bow, I withdrew, and left the house. I had not gone many yards down the gravel-path, when a woman's cry tore the air, a smothered cry of terrorized anguish. The sound died away without repetition. I passed on, convinced that some evil had befallen Mrs. LaRauche. There was more mystery in this house than I had at first imagined.
No success having materialized from the real motive of my visit, which LaRauche, with uncanny intuition, had so rightly surmised, I returned to the castle, and told Henry all that had occurred. He laughed heartily when I narrated my encounter with the grizzly bear. As for the secret work LaRauche was at present engaged on, and Orkins' possible connection with it, I was bound to admit that I had made little headway in obtaining any accurate information.
What seemed to Henry much the most important fact of the little evidence I had gained, was Mrs. LaRauche's statement that her husband was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't been sleeping properly at night for several weeks, and that he was keeping it a secret even from her.
"This is damned queer business," Henry said at last. "Let's suppose that Orkins, using the knowledge he gained of my recent discovery, is mixed up in this work on which LaRauche is spending so many exciting days and sleepless nights."
"Now, just what information Orkins obtained, as your butler, would be valuable to LaRauche?" I asked.
"If you're asking me for an answer, Livingston," said Henry, "all I've got to say is, I haven't got one. I can't think of any important reason why LaRauche should barge this way into my private affairs. Beats me altogether."
"Well, you can be certain of one thing," I said, "that he had an object—"