It was certainly most
singular. However, Guy congratulated himself, after a moment's pause,
that so much at least of the stolen property was duly recovered.
He could pay back one-half of the purloined sum now to Cyril's
credit. So he went on his way through the rest of the wood in a
somewhat calmer and easier frame of mind. To be sure, he had still
to hunt down that villain Nevitt, and to tax him to his face with
his double-dyed treachery. But it was something, nevertheless, to
have recovered a part, at any rate, of the stolen money. And Nevitt
himself need never know by what fortunate accident he had happened
to recover it.
He emerged on the upland road, and struck back towards Mambury.
All the way round, he never saw his man. Weary with walking, he
returned in the end to the Talbot Arms. Had Mr. McGregor come back?
No, not yet; but he was sure to be home for dinner. Then Guy would
wait, and dine at the inn as well. He might have to stop all night,
but he must see McGregor.
As the day wore on, however, it became gradually clear to him that
Montague Nevitt didn't mean to return at all. Hour after hour passed
by, but nothing was heard of him. The landlord, good man, began to
express his doubts and fears most freely.
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