How, if accidentally?
If purposely, why? The mystery had become a deeper mystery.
A little after midnight the search was abandoned. Mrs. Basket
administered hot brandy-and-water to the two gentlemen, and the
household retired to rest--but not to sleep.
At breakfast next morning, before seeking the Chief Constable,
Mr. Basket and the Doctor compared notes. Each owned himself more
puzzled than ever.
As it turned out, their discoveries led them straight away from the
true explanation. The Chief Constable, when they interviewed him,
was disposed for a brief while to suspect the press-gang. There had,
in fact, on the night before last, been a "hot press," as it was
called. At least a score of bodies of the Royal Marines, in parties
of twelve and fourteen, each accompanied by a marine and a naval
officer, had boarded the colliers off the new quay, the ships in
Cattewater and the Pool, and had swept the streets and gin-shops.
A gang of seamen, too, had entered the theatre and cleared the whole
gallery except the women; had even descended upon the stage and
carried off practically the whole company of actors, including the
famous Mr. Sturge. (This Mr. Basket could confirm.) The whole town
was in a ferment. He had already received at least seventy visits
from inquirers after missing relatives.
But the discoveries in the fish-pond led him clean off the scent.
No press-gang would enter a private house or a private garden such as
Mr.
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