Swallow knows exactly where I am, and where I shall be until I give him further notice.

Don't be discouraged, my friend--one is often on the very edge of a discovery when one seems to be miles away from it.
Give me another day--and if we haven't found out something by tomorrow evening I'll consult with you as to our next step.

But I've a plan for tomorrow morning which ought to yield some result." "What ?" demanded Copplestone, doubtfully.
"This! There is in every centre of population an official who registers births, marriages, and deaths.

Now we believe the real Marston Greyle to be dead.

Let us suppose, for argument's sake, that he did die here, in Bristol, whither he and Chatfield certainly set off when they left Falmouth.