er so many years of dependence, and stumbled downstairs,
where, as with his daughter, it was something like a relief to know
that hope was not extinguished in Alwyn's case. But Mr. Egremont was
in a very trembling, broken condition, and much overcome by his valet's
end after so many years of intimate association. Certainly, if either
of the others had so parted with the man, it would have been a horror
in the recollection, but he did not seem to dwell on it; and, indeed,
attention was distracted by every sound at the door, since each might
bring news of the missing child.

One of these tantalising rings proved to be a policeman with poor
Gregorio's keys, and a demand for an investigation into any papers he
might have left which would show his state of mind. Mr. Egremont was
very much annoyed, declaring that he would have no stranger meddle with
them, and that he saw no use in such prying. What difference could it
make to any living creature? However, when he found there was no help
for it, he said he must do it himself. Nuttie offered to help, but was
sharply, strongly refused. Mark alone might and should help.

Then Mr. Dutton volunteered to go and explain matters to Mr. Dobbs, so
as to get freedom for Mark for at least the remainder of the day. He
would call at the police offices and see what was doing in the search,
put forward the advertisements, and obtain that the Serpentine should
be dragged, for he saw that only that measure would remove one great
terror from these anxious hearts.

'And,' he said to Mark, 'with your permission, I will bring back Mrs.
Egremont and the children if they will do me the honour to become my
guests. She will be a comfort to Miss Egremont, and then you will be
at hand in the evening.'

Mark could only be thankful, and presently addressed himself to the
investigation, which his uncle insisted should be made in his own
presence, though the opiate kept him for the most part dozing in an
arm-chair, only rousing up now and then by some noise at the front
door, or putting queries, the replies to which startled him more and
more, as he grew more wakeful and Mark proceeded.

All, except a few unimportant bills and a betting-book, was locked into
a dressing-case that had once belonged to Mr. Egremont, and had tricks
of secret drawers that only he could explain. It was full of papers,
and they were a strange revelation that Mr. Egremont might well wish to
withhold from his daughter.