Accustomed to the faithful henchman’s strictures, Kit said mildly: “I’m not really as bacon-brained as you think—not that that’s praising myself to the skies! As far as inquiring after my brother goes I know very well I’m hamstrung. But—”

“Yes, sir, you are. And if you’ve taken a notion into your nous-box that I can do it for you, you’re beside the bridge! In course, no one wouldn’t think there was any havey-cavey business going on if I was to start asking after my lord when he’s known to be at Ravenhurst! Oh, no! Not if I didn’t ask any but whopstraws they wouldn’t! And don’t you humbug yourself into thinking everyone won’t know it, Mr Kit, because there ain’t anything that happens at Ravenhurst but what it’s talked of all over! You’ll have to show yourself abroad now-and-now, too, for you don’t want it to look as if you was hiding yourself: that ’ud make you look brummish straight off!”

“Yes, I know all that,” Kit said. “I was thinking of the toll-gates, and the pikes.”

“Well, sir, I don’t deny I’ve thought of ’em myself,” confessed Challow. “It’s my belief it won’t fadge to go asking questions there any more than it will anywhere else. Now, just you think! I do know that his lordship drove off through the main gates, but which way he took when he reached the lane I don’t know, and even if I was to discover that, cunning-like, from Tugby, at the lodge, it’s my belief it wouldn’t do us a bit of good. If he turned left-handed, it looks like he was making for the London road, but I don’t think he did, because I took that road myself, only a couple of hours after his lordship drove off, and the pike-keeper where you come out on to the post-road knows both him and me, and not a word did he say about having seen my lord when he opened the pike to let me through. Seems to me it’s more likely he turned right-handed when he got to the lane, but that don’t do us a bit of good neither. You know as well as I do, Mr Kit, that it’s not more than five miles till you get to the end of the lane that way and only a step from the village. If I was to start inquiring after his lordship at that pike, we’d have the busyhead that keeps it flashing the gab in an ant’s foot, which would send my lord up into the boughs when he got to hear about it.”

“There are other pikes and toll-gates on the road,” Kit said shortly.

“To be sure there are, sir, and a very busy road it is,” agreed Challow. “Was you thinking of sending me to ask at all the gates and pikes up and down it, which ain’t near enough to Ravenhurst for the keepers to recognize his lordship? Because it wouldn’t fit, Master Kit! Who’s going to remember one phaeton more or less a fortnight back? Ay, and even if I did get wind of his lordship how would I know whether he didn’t perhaps turn off the post-road somewheres? I tell you, sir, it ain’t no manner of use: he could be anywhere!”

“I’m well aware of that,” Kit replied, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “I don’t know where to look for him, even if I weren’t masquerading, because I don’t know his habits, or the company he has been keeping. But don’t you know, Challow?” The groom did not answer; and, after a moment, Kit glanced at him, and saw that he was frowning. “Come, man, unbutton!” he commanded. “You surely can’t suppose that my brother would want you to keep anything a secret from me!”

“It ain’t that, Master Kit,” Challow said, shaking his head. “The mischief is I don’t know—not by a long chalk! That ain’t to say I haven’t had my suspicions, the same as Fimber has, but whenever his lordship goes off on one of his revel-routs he don’t take either of us with him, nor he don’t say where he’s off to. It queers me why he should tip us the double like he does, because there’s nothing we could do to stop him going the pace.”

Kit let this pass. He found nothing remarkable in Evelyn’s desire to shake off his fond but censorious guardians when he was bent on adventures of which they would strongly and vociferously disapprove; but as no useful purpose would be served by entering into discussion of this he merely said: “He may not tell you where he’s off to, but I’ll swear it’s a guinea to a gooseberry that you know!”

“Not properly I don’t, sir. I’ve got my reasons for thinking there’s a ladybird in Brighton he used to have dealings with, and another one at Tunbridge Wells. It did cross my mind, when he went off alone from Ravenhurst, that that’s where he was bound for. Well, I don’t mind owning to you, sir, that when he didn’t come home to London when he was looked for, what with her ladyship getting in a twitter, and him being engaged to dine at my Lord Stavely’s, I took it upon myself to hop on to the stage, and see if I couldn’t get news of him at the Wells. I didn’t say anything about it to her ladyship, nor to you neither, Mr Kit, because I’ll take my oath my lord ain’t there, nor hasn’t been. They hadn’t seen him at the Sussex, nor the Kentish, nor even the New Inn: that’s certain-sure! I got into talk with the ostlers, for if my lord had stabled his grays at any of the inns they wouldn’t have been forgotten, even if he was! You ain’t seen them yet, but I give you my word they’re complete to a shade! Perfect in all their paces! Four of the tidiest ones you ever clapped eyes on, sir!”

“What about the livery-stables?” interrupted Kit.

“No, sir—not at any which my lord would have trusted with that team. Naturally I thought of that, when I got to wondering if perhaps he’d set his peculiar up private, and wasn’t putting up at an inn at all.” He coughed discreetly, adding, on a note of apology: “If I’m not speaking too free, Master Kit!”

Kit paid no heed to this, but said, frowning ahead of him: “My brother wouldn’t have remained with one of his peculiars at such a time as this.”

“Just what I think myself, sir!” said Challow. “Not when he’s made up his mind to step into parson’s mousetrap he wouldn’t! He’s not of that cut—let alone the danger of it! Tunbridge Wells! Lord, I saw with my own eyes upwards of half-a-dozen people there that his lordship knew well!”

Kit nodded, and relapsed into silence. The problem of his erratic twin’s whereabouts seemed insoluble; for the only explanation that occurred to him was that Evelyn, who had certainly gone off to redeem Lady Denville’s brooch, must have found that Lord Silverdale had left Brighton, and had decided to follow him to his Yorkshire estates. But no sooner had he admitted this thought into his mind than he was struck by its improbability. If Evelyn, pressed for time, as he must have known he was, had undertaken such a journey, he would not have set forth in his phaeton. Nor could there have been any reason to account for his having taken such care to rid himself of his valet. It was equally unlikely that he would not have failed to apprise Lady Denville of his intention. He might well have driven himself to London—but why leave Challow behind?—and gone on from there by post-chaise; but that he had not done so was proved by the absence of his grays from their stable.

Kit was recalled from these ruminations by Challow, who presented him with a fresh problem. “Begging your pardon, Mr Kit,” said that worthy, “but what was you meaning to do at Ravenhurst?”

“Do?” repeated Kit, whose only thought so far had been to escape from a locality so fraught with peril as London. “I don’t know—what should I do? Fish—shoot a few wood pigeons and rabbits!”

“Ah!” said Challow, in the voice of one who had foreseen this answer. “I’m sure I wouldn’t want to “throw a rub in your way, sir, but if you want to gammon everyone into believing you’re his lordship you won’t go fishing! That ain’t by any means his lordship’s notion of sport!”

Kit, who had momentarily forgotten Evelyn’s dislike of fishing, felt much inclined to damn his lordship. He quelled the impulse, but said, with a touch of exasperation: “You’ve only to add that as I’m nothing like as good a shot as my brother, land must therefore not take a gun out, to tip me a final settler! Don’t put yourself to the trouble of doing it, but tell me instead what the devil I am going to do!”

“Now, now!” responded Challow, indulgently chiding. “There’s no call for you to take a pet, Master Kit! All I’m saying is that if you do take a gun out you don’t want anyone to go with you—no loader, nor Mr Willey, which is my lord’s new gamekeeper. You ain’t seen him yet, nor he won’t know you from my lord, if he don’t see you shooting.”

“Thank you!” said Kit, a reluctant grin banishing his frown. “Stop depressing my pretensions, and tell me who is likely to recognize me at Ravenhurst!”

“I been thinking of that, sir, and it don’t seem to me that anyone will, barring Mrs Pinner—and seeing as how she lives in the cottage by the west gates now I dare say you could keep out of her way.”

He sounded doubtful, but Kit had no doubt at all that there was no possibility of keeping out of his old nurse’s way. He exclaimed: “Keep out of Pinny’s way? I don’t mean to try! If I can’t trust her, there’s no one, not even my mother, whom I can trust!”

That’s true enough,” agreed Challow. “What’s more, sir, if anyone was to get a suspicion you wasn’t his lordship—not that I think anyone will, for the new butler, which my lord engaged a year ago, when it got to be beyond old Mr Brigg to be jauntering up and down from London, ain’t never laid eyes on you, and he don’t know his lordship very well neither, for, barring the couple of nights we spent at Ravenhurst a fortnight back, my lord hasn’t been next or nigh the place since he was here in November, with a party, for the shooting—however, if he did happen to be more of a downy one than I take him for, he won’t think no more about it when me, and Fimber, and Mrs Pinner carry on as though everything was natural and above-board. Well, why should he, Master Kit? No one that didn’t know you like we do would ever think of you taking it into your head to run a rig like this!”