"Certainly. Let us go," he exclaimed, rising at once and ringing his bell.
"Get three good lanterns and some matches, and put them in this gentleman's trap outside," he said to the constable who answered his summons. "And tell Gilbert Campbell that I want him to go with me up to Rannoch Wood."
"Yes, sir," answered the man; and the door again closed.
"It's a pity—a thousand pities, Mr. Gregg, that you didn't stop those two men who buried the body."
"They were already across the stream, and disappearing into the thicket before I mounted the rock," I explained. "Besides, at the moment I had no suspicion of what they'd been doing. I believed them to be stragglers from a neighboring shooting-party who had lost their way."
"Ah, most unfortunate!" he said. "I hope they don't escape us. If they're foreigners, they are not likely to get away. But if they're English or Scots, then I fear there's but little chance of us coming up with them. Yesterday at the inquest the identity of the murdered man was strictly preserved, and the inquiry was adjourned for a fortnight."
"Of course my name was not mentioned?" I said.
"Of course not," was the detective's reply. Then he asked: "When do you expect to get a telegram from your friend, the Consul at Leghorn? I am anxious for that, in order that we may commence inquiries in London."
"The day after to-morrow, I hope. He will certainly reply at once, providing the dead man's father can still be found."
And at that moment a tall, thin man, who proved to be Detective Campbell, entered, and five minutes later we were all three driving over the uneven cobbles of Dumfries and out in the darkness towards Rannoch.