The truth was that he remained unsuspected by all—save by one man who had scented the truth. That man was Walter Fetherston!
Walter alone knew the ghastly circumstances, and it was he who had been working to save the old soldier from himself. He did so for two reasons—first, because he was fond of the bluff, fearless old fellow, and, secondly, because he had been attracted by Enid, and intended to rescue her from the evil thraldom of Weirmarsh.
"Why have you returned here to taunt and irritate me again?" snapped Sir Hugh after a pause.
"I came to tell you news which, apparently, you have already received."
"You could well have kept it. You knew that I should be informed in due course."
"Yes—but I—well, I thought you might grow apprehensive perhaps."
"In what direction?"
"That your connection with the little affair might be discovered by the French police. Bézard, the new chief of the Sûreté, is a pretty shrewd person, remember!"
"But, surely, that is not possible, is it?" gasped the elder man in quick alarm.
"No; you can reassure yourself on that point. Le Pontois knows nothing, therefore he can make no statement—unless, of course, your own actions were suspicious."