He came himself."
"Yes.
I only spoke generally.
Well, I'll be sorry to go, for I have made some pleasant friends in Rickwell—yourself amongst the number.
But my wife insists, so I must humor her.
There's Franklin. I shall be sorry to leave him."
"Is he not going also?"
Morley looked astonished.
"No.
Why should he go?
He has the Priory on a seven years' lease.
Besides, he likes the place."
"He might go to escape his brother."
"I don't think Walter Franklin will dare to trouble George now.
He is innocent of actually committing this crime, but he certainly is an accessory after the fact.
He'll keep out of the way."
"Let us hope so for the sake of George. Well, Morley, I must be off."
Giles went home at top speed, and Morley remained at the inn to make inquiries about the Hungarian Princesses.
Although he was not now a detective, yet Morley still preserved the instinct which made him ask questions.
He heard that the foreign ladies had driven to Westbury, and afterwards strolled round to the stables to see the new coachman.
He learned from him about the strange lady who entered the carriage on the moor.
The man described her face, for it seemed that she had lifted her veil for a moment when alighting at the station.
Morley took all this in, and walked home jubilantly.
He knew that Anne was with the Princess Karacsay.
"If these were the old days," he said, "I'd wire to London to have the house of those Hungarian women searched.
I wonder what they have to do with the matter?
Humph!
Anne killed Daisy.
Is it worth while to try and trace her?"
This speech was made to Mrs. Morley, and the pale woman gave a decided negative.
"Let poor Anne go, Oliver," she said beseechingly; "I loved her, and she had much good in her."
"Still, I'm all on fire to follow up the clue," said Morley.
"You promised to leave the detective business alone."
"Quite right; so I did," he answered. "Well, I'll do what you wish, my dear.
Anne Denham can go free for me.
I said the same thing to Ware, although he won't believe me.
But I should like to know what that Princess Karacsay has to do with the matter."
He worried all that evening, and finally went to see Franklin about the matter.
But he got scanty satisfaction from him.
Franklin denied that Anne had ever been in his house, and told Morley to mind his own business.
If the ex-detective's wife had not been present, and if this conversation had not taken place in her presence, Franklin might have been more easy to deal with.
But the presence of a third party shut his mouth.
So Morley could do nothing, and made no attempt to do anything.
Had Giles known of this it might have set his mind at rest, for he could not get out of his head that he was being followed.
At the Liverpool station he alighted about ten o'clock, and looked everywhere in the crowd to see if he was being observed.
But his fears were vain, for he could distinguish no one with any inquiring look on his face, or note any person dogging his footsteps.
He stepped into a cab and ordered the man to drive to St. John's Wood. But at Baker Street he alighted and dismissed the cab.
He had only a hand-bag with him, and, carrying this, he took the underground train to High Street, Kensington.
When he arrived there he drove in another cab to his old hotel,
"The Guelph," opposite the Park.