years. And he wondered how it was that though this Greyle's voice was
pleasant and cultured enough, its accent was decidedly American.

"Perhaps I'd better explain," said Copplestone. "I've already told most
of it to this lady, but you will both understand more fully if I tell you
more. It's this way--" and he went on to tell everything that had
happened and come to light since one o'clock that day. "So you see, it's
here," he concluded; "we're absolutely certain that Oliver went out of
the 'Admiral's Arms' up there about half-past two yesterday, but--where?
From that moment, no one seems to have seen him. Yet how he could come
along this village street, this quay, without being seen--"

"He need not have come along the quayside," interrupted the girl. "There
is a cliff path just below the inn which leads up to the Keep."

"Also, he mayn't have taken this side of the bay, either." remarked
Greyle. "He may have chosen the other. You didn't see or hear of him on
your side, Audrey?"

"Nothing!" replied the girl. "Nothing!"

Marston Greyle had fallen into line with the other two, and they were now
walking along the quay in the direction of the "Admiral's Arms." And
presently Stafford, accompanied by a policeman, came hurriedly round a
corner and quickened his steps at sight of Copplestone. The policeman,
evidently much puzzled and interested, saluted the Squire obsequiously as
the two groups met.

"No news at all!" exclaimed Stafford, glancing at Copplestone's
companions. "You got any?"