“I do not see how I can well hold back,” replied Mr. Markland.  “I have, at least, honourably bound myself to Mr. Fenwick.”

“A few days can make no difference, so far as that is concerned,” said Mr. Brainard, “and may develope facts of the most serious importance.  Suppose it should really prove true that Mr. Lyon returned, in a secret manner, from the South, would you feel yourself under obligation to go forward without the clearest explanation of the fact?”

“No,” was the unhesitating answer.

“Very well.  Wait for a few days.  Time will make all this clearer.”

“It will, no doubt, be wisest,” said Mr. Markland, in a voice that showed a slight depression of feeling.

“According to Mr. Lamar, if the man he saw was Lyon, he evidently wished to have a private interview with yourself.”

“With me?”

“Certainly.  Both Mr. Lamar and the hotel-keeper refer to his going to, or being in, the neighbourhood of the cars that run in the direction of ‘Woodbine Lodge.’  It will be well for you to question the various members of your household.  Something may be developed in this way.”

“If he had visited Woodbine Lodge, of course I would have known about it,” said Mr. Markland, with a slightly touched manner, as if there were something more implied by Mr. Brainard than was clearly apparent.

“No harm can grow out of a few inquiries,” was answered.  “They may lead to the truth we so much desire to elucidate, and identify the person seen by Mr. Lamar as a very different individual from Mr. Lyon.”

Under the existing position of things, no further steps in the very important business they had in progress could be taken that day.  After an hour’s further conference, the two men parted, under arrangement to meet again in the morning.

CHAPTER XII.

It was scarcely mid-day when Mr. Markland’s carriage drew near to Woodbine Lodge.  As he was about entering the gateway to his grounds, he saw Mr. Allison, a short distance beyond, coming down the road.  So he waited until the old gentleman came up.

“Home again,” said Mr. Allison, in his pleasant, interested way, as he extended his hand.  “When did you arrive?”

“Last evening,” replied Mr. Markland.

“Been to the city this morning, I suppose.”

“Yes.  Some matters of business required my attention.  The truth is, Mr. Allison, I grow more and more wearied with my inactive life, and find relief in any new direction of thought.”

“You do not design re-entering into business?”

“I have no such present purpose.”  Mr. Markland stepped from his carriage, as he thus spoke, and told the driver to go forward to the house.  “Though it is impossible to say where we may come out when we enter a new path.  I am not a man to do things by halves.  Whatever I undertake, I am apt to prosecute with considerable activity and concentration of thought.”