“With what result?”

“They profess to know nothing about her.  Of course, I don’t believe them.”

“But you may,” said Glazzard, calmly.  “They speak the truth, no doubt.  From them you must hope for no information.  In all likelihood, you might seek her for the rest of your life and never come upon her track.”

“Then let me know what you propose.”

“I offer to tell you where she is, and how situated, and to enable you to claim her.  But you, for your part, must undertake to do this in a certain way, which I will describe when everything is ready, a week or so hence.  As I have said, I am willing to reward you for agreeing to act as I direct.  My reasons you shall understand when I go into the other details.  You will see that I have no kind of selfish object in view—­in fact, that I am quite justified in what looks like vulgar plotting.”

Glazzard threw out the words with a careless condescension, keeping his eyes on the landscape.

“I’ll take back the portrait, if you please.”

He restored it to his pocket, and watched Northway’s features, which were expressive of mental debate.

“At present,” he went on, “I can do no more than give you an idea of what has been going on.  Your wife has not been rash enough to marry a second time; but she is supposed to be married to a man of wealth and position—­is living publicly as his wife.  They have deceived every one who knows them.”

“Except you, it seems,” remarked Northway, with a gleam from between his eyelids.

“Except me—­but that doesn’t concern you.  Now, you see that your wife has done nothing illegal; you can doubtless divorce her, but have no other legal remedy.  I mention this because it might occur to you that—­you will excuse me—­that the situation is a profitable one.  It is nothing of the kind.  On the threat of exposure they would simply leave England at once.  Nothing could induce them to part—­ be quite sure of that.  The man, as I said, has a high position, and you might be tempted to suppose that—­to speak coarsely—­he would pay blackmail.  Don’t think it for a moment.  He is far too wise to persevere in what would be a lost game; they would at once go abroad.  It is only on the stage that men consent to pay for the keeping of a secret which is quite certain not to be kept.”

Northway had followed with eager attention, pinching his long throat and drawing in his cheeks.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he asked.

“To remain hero in Bristol for a week or so longer.  I will then telegraph to you, and tell you where to meet me.”

“Is it far from here?”

“A couple of hours’ journey, or so.  If you will allow me, I will pay your fare at once.”

He took out a sovereign, which Northway, after a moment’s hesitation, accepted.

“Do you take any interest in the elections?” Glazzard asked.

“Not much,” replied the other, reassuming his intellectual air.  “One party is as worthless as the other from my point of view.”