“That’s the first place they went to,” said Susan.
“And was any one there, any one arrested?” cried Emmie, trembling with eagerness to hear the reply, which might loose the knot of her perplexity, and free her for ever from haunting terrors.
“No one was found in this house, miss,” answered Susan, with a look of distress. “There were strange presses and instruments found, as I heard, in the haunted room, such as must have been used in forging those dreadful bank-notes.”
“Forging bank-notes! so that was the crime!” said Emmie under her breath. “And is any one suspected?” she inquired.
Susan at first looked perplexed, and avoided meeting her lady’s questioning glance. She then answered, “There is a warrant out for the arrest of Colonel Standish.”
“Colonel Standish!” echoed Emmie in surprise.
“The police had been at S——, at the White Hart, before they came here,” said Susan; “but the colonel had gone off, no one knows where. He had not been seen or heard of since yesterday morning. He owes a large debt at the hotel, and his stealing off thus, without paying it, makes every one think him guilty about the forged notes.”
“I never believed him to be a real gentleman,” observed Emmie. “But,” she added anxiously, “is he thought to have had no accomplice?” The maiden, bound by her oath, dared not so much as mention the name of Harper.
“I think that I hear master calling me,” said Susan; and without answering her lady’s question, she hurried from the apartment.
Emmie was standing near the window, and from it she now saw Joe leading her own pony-chaise from the stables towards the entrance of the house, and at a quick pace that told of haste. What was the vehicle brought for at so early an hour? Perhaps—so thought Emmie Trevor—to take one or more of the policemen back to S——. Yet scarcely so, for their own conveyance was waiting.