“And after that,” Carpentaria commented, “your sister continues to have stolen interviews with this man.”
“I can’t help thinking you are mistaken. Rosie would never keep such a secret from me.”
“It will be very easy to throw some light on the matter,” said Carpentaria. “Let us go to your house and see whether Miss Rosie is in Mrs. Ilam’s room as you imagine her to be, and as I imagine her not to be. I may tell you quite openly my opinion that Miss Rosie has had something to do with the disappearance of Mr. Ilam. I am convinced, indeed I know, that he has been spirited away, together with a trifling amount of money, by our mysterious visitor, and since our mysterious visitor talks to Miss Rosie each night, she on her balcony and he beneath it—well, I leave the inference to yourself.”
Pauline started back.
“Yes,” she said, in a low voice, “let us go and see.”
And they went, walking side by side in silence across the gardens.
“I will wait here,” said Carpentaria, when they arrived at the side-door of the Ilam bungalow. “You can ascertain whether anything unusual has occurred in the house, and particularly if your sister is still at her post, and then you will be kind enough to come back and report to me. I will watch here.” Without replying Pauline passed into the house. In a few minutes she returned. Tears stood in her eyes.
“Well?” queried Carpentaria.
“Rosie is not in the house,” she answered. “Mrs. Ilam is alone. Happily she is asleep. Everything is quiet. But Rosie——!”
A sob escaped her.