“But there must be some reason,” I cried, for there seemed on every hand to be a conspiracy of silence again me.
“There is a reason,” replied the young man in a low, calm voice, “one which, however, seems mysterious.”
“Ah!” I cried. “Then even you are mystified by these strange happenings?”
“Yes,” he replied, knocking the ash from his cigar, “I have had certain suspicions aroused, Holford—vague suspicions of something wrong in the Professor’s household. Antonio is absent, the servants have all been paid and dispersed, the house in Sussex place is closed, and—”
“And the Professor is a fugitive, fleeing towards Hungary,” I added. “Has not Miss Ethelwynn told you anything?”
“What she has told me has been in complete confidence. It has caused me a great deal of surprise and apprehension, Holford, and this surprise has been increased by what you have told me this evening—that your wife has been enticed away, and is missing.”
“But what connection can my wife possibly have with any occurrence at the house of Professor Greer?” I demanded. “She was in ignorance of everything. She was not even acquainted with Greer. I might tell you that to-day I have been down to Broadstairs and seen Miss Ethelwynn,” I added.
“Ethelwynn did not seem to remember ever having met you when I told her of our encounter at the door, and the subsequent events.”
“I am a friend of the Professor’s, not of his daughter,” I hastened to explain. “But are you absolutely certain that a journey to Strassburg to-morrow would be useless?”
“Absolutely. If Greer consented to see his friends I would be the first to see him.”