“I should say it is precisely because of something that I said to him last night,” replied Spargo.  “I was a fool ever to let him out of my sight.”

Breton turned on his companion and gasped.

“Out—­of—­your—­sight!” he exclaimed.  “Why—­why—­you don’t mean to say that Mr. Elphick has anything to do with this Marbury affair?  For God’s sake, Spargo——­”

Spargo laid a hand on the young barrister’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to hear a good deal, Breton,” he said.  “I was going to talk to you today in any case.  You see——­”

Before Spargo could say more a woman, bearing the implements which denote the charwoman’s profession, entered the room and immediately cried out at what she saw.  Breton turned on her almost savagely.

“Here, you!” he said.  “Have you seen anything of Mr. Elphick this morning?”

The charwoman rolled her eyes and lifted her hands.

“Me, sir!  Not a sign of him, sir.  Which I never comes here much before half-past eleven, sir, Mr. Elphick being then gone out to his breakfast.  I see him yesterday morning, sir, which he was then in his usual state of good health, sir, if any thing’s the matter with him now.  No, sir, I ain’t seen nothing of him.”

Breton let out another exclamation of impatience.

“You’d better leave all this,” he said.  “Mr. Elphick’s evidently gone away in a hurry, and you mustn’t touch anything here until he comes back.  I’m going to lock up the chambers:  if you’ve a key of them give it to me.”

The charwoman handed over a key, gave another astonished look at the rooms, and vanished, muttering, and Breton turned to Spargo.

“What do you say?” he demanded.  “I must hear—­a good deal!  Out with it, then, man, for Heaven’s sake.”

But Spargo shook his head.

“Not now, Breton,” he answered.  “Presently, I tell you, for Miss Aylmore’s sake, and your own, the first thing to do is to get on your guardian’s track.  We must—­must, I say!—­and at once.”

Breton stood staring at Spargo for a moment as if he could not credit his own senses.  Then he suddenly motioned Spargo out of the room.

“Come on!” he said.  “I know who’ll know where he is, if anybody does.”

“Who, then?” asked Spargo, as they hurried out.

“Cardlestone,” answered Breton, grimly.  “Cardlestone!”

CHAPTER THIRTY

REVELATION

There was as much bright sunshine that morning in Middle Temple Lane as ever manages to get into it, and some of it was shining in the entry into which Spargo and Breton presently hurried.  Full of haste as he was Breton paused at the foot of the stair.  He looked down at the floor and at the wall at its side.

“Wasn’t it there?” he said in a low voice, pointing at the place he looked at.  “Wasn’t it there, Spargo, just there, that Marbury, or, rather, Maitland, was found?”