Dr. Porhoët slipped his arm in Arthur’s.
“You must be reasonable, my friend,” he said. “From his own point of view this doctor has all the rights on his side. You have nothing to justify your demands. It is monstrous to expect that for a vague suspicion you will be able to get an order for exhumation.”
Arthur did not answer. The trap was waiting for them.
“Why do you want to see Haddo?” insisted the doctor. “You will do no more good than you have with Dr. Richardson.”
“I have made up my mind to see him,” answered Arthur shortly. “But there is no need that either of you should accompany me.”
“If you go we will come with you,” said Susie.
Without a word Arthur jumped into the dogcart, and Susie took the seat by his side. Dr. Porhoët, with a shrug of the shoulders, mounted behind. Arthur whipped up the pony, and at a smart trot they traversed the three miles across the barren heath that lay between Venning and Skene.
When they reached the park gates, the lodgekeeper, as luck would have it, was standing just inside, and she held one of them open for her little boy to come in. He was playing in the road and showed no inclination to do so. Arthur jumped down.
“I want to see Mr. Haddo,” he said.
“Mr. Haddo’s not in,” she answered roughly.
She tried to close the gate, but Arthur quickly put his foot inside.
