Mrs. Carswell, who had left the gentlemen to themselves after opening the plate-chest, followed the new-comer into the room and looked appealingly at the senior partner.

"This is Miss Fosdyke, sir," she said, as if accounting for the unceremonious entrance. "Mr. Horbury's——"

But Miss Fosdyke, having looked round her, entered the arena of discussion as abruptly as she had entered the room.

"You're Mr. Chestermarke!" she said, turning to Gabriel. "I remember you. What's all this, Mr. Chestermarke? I come down from London to meet my uncle, and to go on with him to Scotland for a holiday, and I learn that he's disappeared! What is it? What has happened? Why are you all looking so mysterious? Is something wrong? Where is my uncle?"

Gabriel, who had assumed his stereotyped expression of calm attention under this tornado of questions, motioned Joseph to place a chair for the young lady. But Miss Fosdyke shook her head and returned to the attack.

"Please don't keep anything back!" she said. "I am not of the fainting-to-order type of young woman. Just say what is the matter, if you please. Mrs. Carswell knows no more——"

"Than we do," interrupted Joseph, with one of his peculiar smiles. "Hadn't you better sit down?"

"Not until I know what has happened," retorted the visitor. "Because if anything has happened there will be something for me to do, and it's foolish to sit down when one's got to get up again immediately. Mr. Chestermarke, are you going to answer my questions?"

Gabriel bowed stiffly.

"I have the honour of addressing——" he began.

"You have the honour—if you like to put it so—of addressing Miss Betty Fosdyke, who is Mr. John Horbury's niece," replied the young lady impatiently. "Mrs. Carswell has told you that already. Besides—you saw me, more than once, when I was a little girl. And that's not so very long ago. Now, Mr. Chestermarke, where is my uncle?"

"I do not know where your uncle is," replied Gabriel suddenly, and losing his starchiness. "I wish to Heaven I did!"

"None of us know where Mr. John Horbury is," repeated Joseph, in his suavest tones. "We all wish to Heaven we did!"

The girl turned and gave the junior partner a look which took in every inch of him. It was a look which began with a swift speculation and ended in something very like distaste. But Joseph Chestermarke met it with his usual quiet smile.

"It would make such a lot of difference—if we knew!" he murmured. "As it is—things are unpleasant."

Miss Fosdyke finished her reflection and turned away.

"I remember you now," she said calmly. "You're Joseph Chestermarke. Now I will sit down. And I insist on being told—everything!"

"My dear young lady!" exclaimed Gabriel, "there is next to nothing to tell. If you will have the unpleasant truth, here it is. Your uncle, whom we have trusted for more years than I care to mention, disappeared on Saturday evening, and nobody knows where he is, nor whither he went. All we know is that we find some of our property missing—valuable securities. And this gentleman—Lord Ellersdeane—tells us that six weeks ago he entrusted jewels worth a hundred thousand pounds to your uncle's keeping—they, too, are missing. What can we think?"

The girl's face had flushed, and her brows had drawn together in an angry frown by the time Gabriel had finished, and Neale, silently watching her from the background, saw her fingers clench themselves. She gave a swift glance at the Earl, and then fixed her eyes steadily on Gabriel.

"Are you telling me that my uncle is a—thief?" she demanded. "Are you, Mr. Chestermarke?"

"I'm not, anyhow!" exclaimed the Earl. "I—I—so far as I'm concerned, I say there's some mistake."

"Thank you!" she answered quietly. "But—you, Mr. Chestermarke? Come—I'm entitled to an answer."

Gabriel showed signs of deep annoyance. He had the reputation of being a confirmed woman-hater, and it was plain that he was ill at ease in presence of this plain-spoken young person.

"You appear to be a lady of much common sense!" he said. "Therefore——"

"I have some common sense," interrupted Miss Fosdyke coolly. "And what amount I possess tells me that I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life than the suggestion that my uncle should steal anything from anybody! Why, he was, and is, I hope, a fairly well-to-do man! And if he wanted money, he'd only to come to me. It so happens that I'm one of the wealthiest young women in England. If my uncle had wanted a few thousands or tens of thousands to play ducks and drakes with, he'd only to ring me up on the telephone, and he'd have had whatever he asked for in a few hours. That's not boasting, Mr. Chestermarke—that's just plain truth. My uncle a thief! Mr. Chestermarke!—there's only one word for your suggestion. Don't think me rude if I tell you what it is. It's—bosh!"

Gabriel's colourless face twitched a little, and he drew himself up.

"I have no acquaintance with modern young ladies," he remarked icily. "I daresay they have their own way of looking at things—and of expressing themselves. I, too, have mine. Also I have my own conclusions, and——"

"I say, Mr. Chestermarke!" said the Earl, hastening to intervene in what seemed likely to develop into a passage-at-arms. "We're forgetting the suggestion made just before this lady—Miss Fosdyke, I think?—entered. Don't let's forget it—it's a good one."

Miss Fosdyke turned eagerly to the Earl.

"What suggestion was it?" she asked. "Do tell me? I'm sure you agree with me—I can see you do. Thank you, again!"

"This gentleman," said the Earl, pointing to Neale, who had retreated into a corner and was staring out of the window, "suggests that Horbury may have met with an accident, you know, and be lying helpless somewhere. I sincerely hope he isn't but——"

Miss Fosdyke jumped from her chair. She turned an indignant look on Gabriel and let it go on to Joseph.

"You don't mean to tell me that you have not done anything to find my uncle?" she exclaimed with fiery emphasis. "You've surely had some search made?—surely!"

"We knew nothing of his disappearance until ten o'clock this morning," replied Gabriel, half-angrily.

"But—since then? Why, you've had five hours!" she said. "Has nothing been done? Haven't you even told the police?"

"Certainly not!" answered Gabriel. "It is not our policy."

Miss Fosdyke made one step to the door and flung it open.

"Then I shall!" she exclaimed. "Policy, indeed! High time I came down here, I think! Thank you, Lord Ellersdeane—and the other gentleman—for the suggestion. Now I'll go and act on it. And when I act, Mr. Chestermarke, I do it thoroughly!"

The next moment she had slammed the door, and Gabriel Chestermarke glanced at his partner.

"Annoying!" he said. "A most unpleasant young woman! I should have preferred not to tell the police until—well, at any rate, tomorrow. We really do not know to what extent we are—but then, what's the use of talking of that now? We can't prevent her going to the police-station."

"Why, really, Mr. Chestermarke," observed the Earl, "don't you think it's the best thing to do? To tell you the truth, considering that I'm concerned, I was going to do the very same thing myself."

Gabriel bowed stiffly.

"We could not have prevented your lordship either," he said, with another wave of the white hands which seemed to go so well with the habitual pallor of his face. "All that is within your lordship's jurisdiction—not in ours. But—especially since this young lady seems determined to do things in her way—I will tell your lordship why we are slow to move. It is purely a business reason. It was, as I said, ten o'clock when we heard that Horbury was missing. That in itself was such a very strange and unusual thing that my partner and I at once began to examine the contents of our strong room. We had been so occupied five hours when your lordship called. Do you think we could examine everything in five hours? No—nor in ten, nor in twenty! Our task is not one quarter complete! And why we don't wish publicity at once in here—we hold a vast number of securities and valuables belonging to customers. Title-deeds, mortgages—all sorts of things. We have valuables deposited with us. Up to now we don't know what is safe and what isn't. We do know this—certain securities of our own, easily convertible on the market, are gone! Now if we had allowed it to be known before, say, noon today, that our manager had disappeared, and these securities with him, what would have been the result? The bank would have been besieged! Before we let the public know, we ourselves want to know exactly where we are. We want to be in a position to say to Smith, 'Your property is safe!'; to Jones, 'Your deeds are here!' Does your lordship see that? But now, of course," concluded Gabriel, "as this Miss Fosdyke can and will spread the news all over the town—why, we must face things."

The Earl, who had listened to all this with an evident desire to comprehend and to sympathize, nodded his head.

"I see—I see, Mr. Chestermarke," he said. "But I say!—I've got another notion—I'm not a very quick thinker, and I daresay my idea came out of Mr. Neale's suggestion. Anyway, it's this—for whatever it's worth. I told you that we only got home night before last—early on Saturday evening, as a matter of fact. Now, it was known in the town here that we'd returned—we drove through the Market-Place. Mayn't it be that Horbury saw us, or heard of our return, and that when he went out that evening he had the casket in his pocket and was on his way to Ellersdeane, to return it to me? And that—on his way—he met with some mishap? Worth considering, you know."

"I daresay a great many theories might—and will—be raised, my lord," replied Gabriel. "But——"

"Does your lordship also think—or suggest—that Horbury also carried our missing securities in his pocket?" asked Joseph quietly. "Because we, at any rate, know they're gone!"

"Oh, well!" said the Earl, "I—I merely suggest it, you know. The country between here and Ellersdeane is a bit rough and wild—there's Ellersdeane Hollow, you know—a queer place on a dark night. And if a man took a short cut—as many people do—through the Hollow, there are places he could fall into. But, as I say, I merely suggest that as a reasonable theory."

"What does your lordship propose to do?" asked Gabriel.

"I certainly think inquiry should be set going," answered the Earl.

"Already done," remarked Joseph drily. "Miss Fosdyke has been with the police five minutes."

"I mean—it should be done by us," said the Earl.

"Very well," said Gabriel suddenly, "it shall be done, then. No doubt your lordship would like to give the police your own story. Mr. Neale, will you go with Lord Ellersdeane to Superintendent Polke? Your duty will be to give him the mere information that Mr. Horbury left his house at a quarter to eight on Saturday evening and has not been heard of since. No more, Neale. And now," he concluded, with a bow to the Earl, "your lordship will excuse my partner and myself if we return to a singularly unpleasant task."

Lord Ellersdeane and Neale left the bank-house and walked towards the police-station. They crossed the Market-Place in silence, but as they turned the corner of the Moot Hall, the elder man spoke, touching his companion's shoulder with a confidential gesture.

"I don't believe a word of all that, Mr. Neale!" he said. "Not one word!"

Neale started and glanced at the Earl's moody face.

"Your lordship doesn't believe—?" he began, and checked himself.

"I don't believe that Horbury's done what those two accuse him of," affirmed the Earl. "Not for one moment! I can't account for those missing securities they talk about, but I'll stake my honour that Horbury hasn't got 'em! Nor my wife's jewels either. You heard and saw how astounded that girl was. By the by—who is she!"

"Mr. Horbury's niece—Miss Fosdyke—from London," replied Neale.

"She spoke of her wealth," remarked the Earl.

"Yes," said Neale. "She must be wealthy, too. She's the sole proprietor of Fosdyke's Brewery."

"Ho-ho!" laughed the Earl. "That's it, eh? Fosdyke's Entire! Of course—I've seen the name on no end of public-houses in London. Sole proprietor? Dear me!—why, I have some recollection that Fosdyke, of that brewery, was at one time a member of Parliament."

"Yes," assented Neale. "He married Mr. Horbury's sister. Miss Fosdyke is their only child. Mr. Fosdyke died a few years ago, and she came into the property last year when she was twenty-one."

"Lucky young woman!" muttered the Earl. "Fine thing to own a big brewery. Um! A very modern and up-to-date young lady, too: I liked the way she stood up to your principals. Of course, she'll have told Polke all the story by this time. As for ourselves—what had we better do?"

Neale had considered that question as he came along.

"There's only one thing to do, my lord," he answered. "We want the solution of a problem: what became of Mr. Horbury last Saturday night?"