“Do you go back to North End by the night train?” inquired Mr. Rockharrt.

“Yes, sir!  I must be at my post to-morrow morning, in order to carry out your instructions.”

“Quite right,” said the head of the great firm.  Then with strange inconsistency, since he had declared that he wished to talk no more on the subject of the lost governor, he suddenly inquired: 

“What do the people of North End say about the disappearance of Governor Rothsay?”

“Some say he was beguiled away by that man who called on him late at night, and that he was murdered and his body made away with.  But I beg your pardon, sir, for repeating such dreadful things.”

“Go on!  What else do they say?”

“Well, sir, one says one thing, and one another; but they all agree that Old Scythia could tell something if she chose.”

“Old Scythia?  And what has she to do with the loss of the governor?”

“Nothing that I know of, sir.  But the people at North End say that she has.”

“Why do they say it?”

“Because, sir, on the day of the wedding, and the eve of the inauguration, she did foretell, in the hearing of a score, that Mr. Rothsay would never take his seat as governor.”

“What!  Absurd!  Preposterous!”

“Of course it was, sir!  Yet she did say that, sir, in the hearing of twenty or more of us, and it was a strange coincidence, to say the least, that her words came true.  She said it in the presence of many witnesses on the day before the intended inauguration, and when there seemed no possibility of her words coming true.  And strange to say, they have come true.”

Old Aaron Rockharrt mused for a few minutes and then replied: 

“There is no such thing as divination, or soothsaying, or prophesy, or fortune telling in this world.  It is all coarse imposture, that can deceive only the weakest mortals.  You know that, of course, Ryland.  It follows, then, that this old woman could have had no knowledge of what was going to happen unless she was in league with conspirators who had planned to kidnap or murder the governor-elect.”

“But, sir, if Old Scythia had been in league with any conspirators, would she have betrayed them—­beforehand?”

“No; unless she was too crazy to keep their secret.  But—­she may have got wind of their plots in some way without their knowledge.”

“Yes, sir,” said Manager Ryland, who agreed to every opinion advanced by his chief.

“Well, then, I shall go down to Rockhold to-morrow, and investigate this matter for myself.  In my capacity of justice of the peace I shall issue a warrant to have that woman brought before me on a charge of vagrancy, and then I shall examine her on this point.  But, Ryland, you are to be careful not to drop even a hint of my intention.”

“Of course I will not, sir,” replied the manager, and then, as there seemed no more to do or say, he took his leave.