The light of the single candle casts deep shadows on his angular face as his brow furrows in dark contemplation.

'I was told, at first, that he had returned to England. It was not until I pressed them for the exact name of the vessel on which he sailed that it became apparent to my informants that no one knew exactly which vessel he had sailed on.' Contempt thins his tongue, though the object of his contempt may not be who Elizabeth might imagine it to be. 'The sheer lack of information told me all that I needed to know in that regard.'

He glances over at the desk, and the files and documents that cover its working surface. 'Though it does remind me -- there are a few papers that you ought to see, while you happen to be here.'