"Yes, there is a late train--quarter-past eleven."
"But so far as you can ascertain he did not take it?"
"No, he has not been seen."
"What did you do next?"
"I wired to Lord Mount-James."
"Why to Lord Mount-James?"
"Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative--hisuncle, I believe."
"Indeed. This throws new light upon the matter. Lord Mount-James is oneof the richest men in England."
"So I've heard Godfrey say."
"And your friend was closely related?"
"Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty--cram full ofgout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles.He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolutemiser, but it will all come to him right enough."
"Have you heard from Lord Mount-James?"
"No."
"What motive could your friend have in going to Lord Mount-James?"
"Well, something was worrying him the night before, and if it was to dowith money it is possibl
e that he would make for his nearest relativewho had so much of it, though from all I have heard he would not havemuch chance of getting it. Godfrey was not fond of the old man. He wouldnot go if he could help it."
"Well, we can soon determine that. If your friend was going to hisrelative, Lord Mount-James, you have then to explain the visit of thisrough-looking fellow at so late an hour, and the agitation that wascaused by his coming."
Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. "I can make nothing of it,"said he.
"Well, well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look into thematter," said Holmes. "I should strongly recommend you to make yourpreparations for your match without reference to this young gentleman.It must, as you say, have been an overpowering necessity which tore himaway in such a fashion, and the same necessity is likely to hold himaway. Let us step round together to this hotel, and see if the portercan throw any fresh light upon the matter."
Sherlock Holmes was a past-master in the art of putting a humblewitness at his ease, and very soon, in the privacy of Godfrey Staunton'sabandoned room, he had extracted all that the porter had to tell.The visitor of the night before was not a gentleman, neither was hea working man. He was simply what the porter described as a"medium-looking chap"; a man of fifty, beard grizzled, pale face,quietly dressed. He seemed himself to be agitated. The porter hadobserved his hand trembling when he had held out the note. GodfreyStaunton had crammed the note into his pocket. Staunton had not shakenhands with the man in the hall. They had exchanged a few sentences, ofwhich the porter had only distinguished the one word "time." Then theyhad hurried off in the manner described. It was just half-past ten bythe hall clock.
"Let me see," said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton's bed. "You arethe day porter, are you not?"
"Yes, sir; I go off duty at eleven."
"The night porter saw nothing, I suppose?"
"No, sir; one theatre party came in late. No one else."
"Were you on duty all day yesterday?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you take any messages to Mr. Staunton?"
"Yes, sir; one telegram."
"Ah! that's interesting. What o'clock was this?"
"About six."