* * * * *

After the amazing and shocking news, however, of the accident to Lord Talgarth and Archie, the precautions had been doubled.  It was the clergyman who had first bought an evening paper soon after five o’clock, and within five minutes the other two knew it also.

It is of no good to try to describe the effect it had on their minds, beyond saying that it made all three of them absolutely resolute that Frank should by no possible means escape them.  The full dramatic situation of it all they scarcely appreciated, though it soaked more and more into them gradually as they waited—­two of them in the Men’s Club just round the corner, and the third, shivering and stamping, under the arch. (An unemployed man, known to the clergyman, had been set as an additional sentry on the steps of the Men’s Club, whose duty it would be, the moment the signal was given from the arch that Frank was coming, to call the other two instantly from inside.  Further, the clergyman—­as has been related—­had been round three times since four o’clock to Turner Road, and had taken Jimmie into his pay.)

The situation was really rather startling, even to the imperturbable Dick.  This pleasant young man, to whom he had begun to feel very strangely tender during the last month or two, now tramping London streets (or driving a van), in his miserable old clothes described to him by the clergyman, or working at the jam factory, was actually no one else at this moment but the new Lord Talgarth—­with all that that implied.  Merefield was his, the big house in Berkeley Square was his; the moor in Scotland....  It was an entire reversal of the whole thing:  it was as a change of trumps in whist:  everything had altered its value....

Well, he had plenty of time, both before he came off guard at seven and after he had joined the clergyman in the Men’s Club, to sort out the facts and their consequences.

* * * * *

About half-past ten the three held a consultation under the archway, while trains rumbled overhead.  They attracted very little attention here:  the archway is dark and wide; they were muffled to the eyes; and there usually is a fringe of people standing under shelter here on rainy evenings.  They leaned back against the wall and talked.

They had taken further steps since they had last met.  Mr. Parham-Carter had been round to the jam factory, and had returned with the news that the van had come back under the charge of only one of the drivers, and that the other one, who was called Gregory (whom Mr. Parham-Carter was inquiring after), would certainly be dismissed in consequence.  He had taken the address of the driver, who was now off duty—­somewhere in Homerton—­with the intention of going to see him next morning if Frank had not appeared.

There were two points they were discussing now.  First, should the police be informed?  Secondly, was it probable that Frank would have heard the news, and, if so, was it conceivable that he had gone straight off somewhere in consequence—­to his lawyers, or even to Merefield itself?