Jack declared that he would walk back to Rosemount with Miss Burton. He did not now care a farthing what members of Blank-field Society he met. Very shortly, the army would know him no more, and he would take up a new life with this fearless girl whom he had married on the sly.
Hugh strolled on, and looked in at the various shops. The High Street happened to be rather empty on this particular afternoon, the élite of Blankfield Society had not yet turned out for its usual promenade.
Turning away from a jeweller's shop window, where he was inspecting some sleeve-links, he was confronted by a tall, sturdily built man of about fifty years of age, who raised his hat.
"I believe I have the pleasure of addressing Captain Murchison?" he inquired politely.
Hugh directed a swift glance at him. He was not exactly a common person, on the other hand he was certainly not a gentleman. There was something military in his bearing; he might have been a retired Sergeant-Major.
"That is my name," answered Hugh a little curtly. "And who are you, please?"
The tall man took a card from his waistcoat pocket and presented it. "Those are my credentials, sir."
Hugh ran his eye over it swiftly. He saw the name, Davidson, a common one enough, and, in the corner, Scotland Yard. Why the deuce should this agent of the police want to accost him? And how did he know his name was Murchison?
"I think you are acquainted with a family of the name of Burton, brother and sister they call themselves, who live at a house a little way out called Rosemount?"
"Of course I know them, that is to say, in a casual sort of way." Needless to say that Murchison had never been more surprised in his life. "Why are you asking these questions?"