“But we’re on the beginning of something,” he concluded.  “That Sir Gilbert Carstairs has some connection with these murders, I’m now convinced—­but what it is, I’m not yet certain.  What I am certain about is that he took fright yesterday morning in our court, when I produced that ice-ax and asked the doctor those questions about it.”

“And I’m sure of that, too, Mr. Lindsey,” said I.  “And I’ve been wondering what there was about yon ice-ax that frightened him.  You’ll know that yourself, of course?”

“Aye, but I’m not going to tell you!” he answered.  “You’ll have to await developments on that point, my man.  And now we’ll be getting to bed, and in the morning we’ll see this Mr. Gavin Smeaton.  It would be a queer thing now, wouldn’t it, if we got some clue to all this through him?  But I’m keenly interested in hearing that he comes from the other side of the Atlantic, Hugh, for I’ve been of opinion that it’s across there that the secret of the whole thing will be found.”

They had brought me a supply of clothes and money with them, and first thing in the morning I went off to the docks and found my Samaritan skipper, and gave him back his sovereign and his blue serge suit, with my heartiest thanks and a promise to keep him fully posted up in the development of what he called the case.  And then I went back to breakfast with the rest of them, and at once there was the question of what was to be done.  My mother was all for going homeward as quickly as possible, and it ended up in our seeing her and Maisie away by the next train; Mr. Lindsey having made both swear solemnly that they would not divulge one word of what had happened, nor reveal the fact that I was alive, to any living soul but Andrew Dunlop, who, of course, could be trusted.  And my mother agreed, though the proposal was anything but pleasant or proper to her.

“You’re putting on me more than any woman ought to be asked to bear, Mr. Lindsey,” said she, as we saw them into the train.  “You’re asking me to go home and behave as if we didn’t know whether the lad was alive or dead.  I’m not good at the playacting, and I’m far from sure that it’s either truthful or honest to be professing things that isn’t so.  And I’ll be much obliged to you if you’ll get all this cleared up, and let Hugh there settle down to his work in the proper way, instead of wandering about on business that’s no concern of his.”

We shook our heads at each other as the train went off, Maisie waving good-bye to us, and my mother sitting very stiff and stern and disapproving in her corner of the compartment.

“No concern of yours, d’ye hear, my lad?” laughed Mr. Lindsey.  “Aye, but your mother forgets that in affairs of this sort a lot of people are drawn in where they aren’t concerned!  It’s like being on the edge of a whirlpool—­you’re dragged into it before you’re aware.  And now we’ll go and see this Mr. Smeaton; but first, where’s the telegraph office in this station?  I want to wire to Murray, to ask him to keep me posted up during today if any news comes in about the yacht.”