"Only in connection with your own family--I have read of the Greyles of
Scarhaven," replied Copplestone. "But, after all, I suppose it is not
confined to your family. There may be Greyles in America. Well--it's all
very queer," he went on, as he rose to leave. "May I come in tomorrow and
tell you what's being done?--I'm sure Stafford means to leave no stone
unturned--he's tremendously keen about it."

"Do!" said Mrs. Greyle, heartily. "But the probability is that you'll see
us out and about in the morning--we spend most of our time out of doors,
having little else to do."

Copplestone went away feeling more puzzled than ever.

Now that he was alone, for the first time since meeting Audrey Greyle on
the beach, he was able to reflect on certain events of the afternoon in
uninterrupted fashion. He thought over them as he walked back towards the
"Admiral's Arms." It was certainly a strange thing that Bassett Oliver,
after remarking to the fisherman that he had known a Mr. Marston Greyle
in America, and hearing that the Squire of Scarhaven had been in that
country, should have gone up to the house saying that he would call on
the Squire and should never have been seen again. It was certainly
strange that if this Marston Greyle, of Scarhaven, had met Bassett Oliver
in America he should have completely forgotten the fact. Bassett Oliver
had a considerable reputation in the United States--he was, in fact, more
popular in that country than in his own, and he had toured in the
principal towns and cities across there regularly for several years. To
meet him there was to meet a most popular celebrity--could any man forget
it? Therefore, were there two men of the name of Marston Greyle?