"We haven't been to London at all," Quest explained. "We got on the boat
train at Plymouth, and your brother managed to induce one of the directors
whom he saw on the platform to stop the train for us at Hamblin Road. We
only left the boat two hours ago. There's nothing wrong with Craig, is
there?"
Lord Ashleigh motioned them to follow him.
"Please come this way," he invited.
He led them across the hall--which, dimly-lit and with its stained-glass
windows, was almost like the nave of a cathedral,--into the library
beyond. He closed the door and turned around.
"I have bad news for you both," he announced. "Craig has escaped."
Neither the Professor nor Quest betrayed any unusual surprise. So far as
the latter was concerned, his first glimpse at Lord Ashleigh's face had
warned him of what was coming.
"Dear me!" the Professor murmured, sinking into an easy-chair. "This is
most unexpected!"
"We'll get him again," Quest declared quickly. "Can you let us have the
particulars of his escape, Lord Ashleigh? The sooner we get the hang of
things, the better."
Their host turned towards the butler, who was arranging a tray upon the
sideboard.
"You must permit me to offer you some refreshments after your journey," he
begged. "Then I will tell you the whole story. I think you will agree,
when you hear it, that no particular blame can be said to rest upon any
one's shoulders. It was simply an extraordinary interposition of chance.
There is tea, whisky and soda, and wine here, Mr.
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