"I don't think anything else," replied Mrs. Greyle. "I certainly don't
believe that Bassett Oliver would put himself into any position of danger
which would result in his breaking his neck. Bassett Oliver never left
Scarhaven Wood!"

Copplestone made no comment on this direct assertion.

Instead, after a brief silence, he asked Mrs. Greyle a question.

"You knew Mr. Oliver--personally?"

"Five and twenty years ago--yes," she answered. "I was on the stage
myself before my marriage. But I have never met him since then. I have
seen him, of course, at the local theatres."

"He--you won't mind my asking?" said Copplestone, diffidently, "he didn't
know that you lived here?"

Mrs. Greyle smiled, somewhat mysteriously.

"Not at all--my name wouldn't have conveyed anything to him," she
answered. "He never knew whom I married. Otherwise, if he met some one
named Marston Greyle in America he would have connected him with me, and
have made inquiry about me, and had he known I lived here, he would have
called. It is odd, Audrey, that if your cousin met Mr. Oliver over there
he should have forgotten him. For one doesn't easily forget a man of
reputation--and Mr. Oliver was that of course!--and on the other hand,
Marston Greyle is not a common name. Did you ever hear the name before,
Mr. Copplestone?"