He had met Godolphin that morning and run him through the thigh.  And that bitterest enemy of ours still wore a crutch a month later, when we faced Master Porson before the Commissioner in Saint Aubyn’s house at Clowance.  At that conference (not to linger over the time between) the Commissioner showed himself pardonably suspicious of us all.  He was a dry, foxy-faced man, who spoke little and at times seemed scarce to be listening; but rather turning over some deeper matters in his brain behind his grey-coloured eyes.  But at length, Mr. Saint Aubyn having twice or thrice made mention of the Lady Alicia and her presence on the beach, this Sir Nicholas looked up at me sharply, and said he—­“By all accounts this lady was a passenger shipped by the master at Dunquerque.  It seems she was a foreign lady of birth, bearing letters commendatory to the Court of Lisbon.”

“That was his story of it,” Master Porson assented.  “I was below and busy with the cargo at the time, and knew nothing of her presence on board until we had cleared the harbour.”

“And at this moment she is a guest of Mr. Milliton’s at Pengersick?” pursued Sir Nicholas, still with his eyes upon mine.  I bowed, feeling mightily uneasy.  “It is most necessary that I should take her evidence—­and Mr. Milliton’s.  In all the statements received by me Mr. Milliton bears no small part:  his house lies at no distance from Gunwallo Cove:  and I have heard much of your Cornish courtesy.  It appears to me singular, therefore, that although I have been these four days in his neighbourhood no invitation has reached me to visit his house and have audience with him:  and it argues small courtesy that on coming here to-day in full expectation of seeing him, I should be fobbed off with a deputy.”

“Though but a deputy,” I protested, “I have my Master’s entire confidence.”

“No doubt,” said he drily.  “But it would be more to the point if you had mine.  It is imperative that I see Mr. Milliton of Pengersick and hear his evidence, as also this Lady Alicia’s:  and you may bear him my respects and say that I intend to call upon him to-morrow.”

I bowed.  It was all I could do:  since the truth (for different reasons) could neither be told to him nor to the others.  And the truth was that for two days my Master and the strange lady had not been seen at Pengersick!  They had vanished, and two horses with them:  but when and how I neither knew nor dared push inquiries to discover.  Only the porter could have told me had he chosen; but when I questioned him he looked cunning, shook his head, and as good as hinted that I would be wiser to question nobody, but go about my business as if I shared the secret.