ey reached the plateau and went down
to the stony space beneath. This was not difficult to reach. A dozen
rough-and-ready ways presented themselves to a climber; but neither
Brendon nor his companions could find the least indications that any
other had recently descended.

Now they quartered out the stone-covered ground and, having first
searched every superficial yard for indications of disturbance,
proceeded to a methodical and very thorough hunt beneath the
surface. The stones were moved and the space critically examined
over every square foot, but not a shadow of evidence to show that
the spot had been trodden or touched could be discovered. Brendon
sought first immediately below the plateau, where the sack and its
contents must have fallen, but nothing indicated such an event. The
stones were naked and no stain of blood or indication of any
intrusion upon the lonely spot rewarded the searchers. For three
hours, until dusk began to deepen on the precipices above them, the
men worked as skilfully and steadfastly as men might work. Then
their fruitless task was done. Brendon's theory, so confidently
proclaimed, had broken down and he confessed his failure frankly
enough.

They climbed up together once more and reached the summit of the
cliffs again. Here, by the main road, they met one or two civilians
who had devoted the day to assisting the police; but not one of them
reported any sight or rumour of the fugitive.

The entrance of "Crow's Nest" opened upon the highroad which took
the police back to Dartmouth, and here Brendon delayed the car and
descended alone down the coomb to the house that had so suddenly
lost its master. The place seemed mourning and it was very silent.
Mark inquired for Jenny and the frightened maid doubted whether she
might be seen.

"The poor lady be cruel put about," she explained. "She says she
brings evil fortune after her and wishes to God it was her that was
dead and not poor master. Mr. Doria tried to comfort her a bit; but
he couldn't and she told him to be gone. She's very near cried her
eyes out of her head since morning."

"That does not sound much like Mrs. Pendean," he answered. "Where is
she, and where is Doria?"

"She's in her room. He is writing letters. He says that he must look
after new work pretty quick, because no doubt he won't be wanted
here after a month from now."

"Ask Mrs. Pendean if she can see me a moment," he said, and the
woman, left him to ascertain.