With outward zeal he set to work; interviewed Lydia and the Italian, to make certain that their defence was genuine; examined the Pegall family, who were dreadfully alarmed by their respectability being intruded upon by a common detective, and obtained a fresh denial from Baxter & Co.'s saleswoman that Ferruci was the purchaser of the cloak.

Also he cross-questioned Mrs.Bensusan and her sharp handmaid in the most exhaustive manner, and did his best to trace out the mysterious Wrent who had so much to do with the matter.

He even called on Dr.Jorce at Hampstead, to satisfy himself as to the actual time of Ferruci's arrival in that neighbourhood on Christmas Eve.

But here he received a check, for Jorce had gone abroad on his annual holiday, and was not expected back for a month.
In fact, Link did all that a man could do to arrive at the truth, only to find himself, at the end of his labours, in the same position as Lucian had been.

Disgusted at this result, he threw up his brief, and called upon Diana and Denzil, with whom he had previously made an appointment, to notify them of his inability to bring the matter to a satisfactory conclusion.
"There is not the slightest chance of finding the assassin of Mr.
Vrain," said Link, after he had set forth at length his late failures.
"The more I go into the matter the more I see it." "Yet you were so confident of doing more than I," said Lucian quietly.
Link turned sulkily, after the fashion of a bad loser.
"I did my best," he retorted gloomily.