“I’m so sorry, so very sorry,” he murmured.
“No, no,” she said quickly. “You have been quite right. We find ourselves in the centre of a mystery, and I have no excuse for being sentimental. My trust in Rosie remains what it always was. Still, facts are facts, and I am ready to do whatever you instruct me to do.”
“Well,” he said, “your sister must have had some reason for insisting on watching Mrs. Ilam out of her turn; and that reason is not connected with the little matter of the boat. If she had merely wished to go unobserved to the boat she would have gone to bed as usual and said nothing, wouldn’t she?”
Pauline nodded.
“It is obvious, therefore, that there is something else to be done, or to occur—probably in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom. For if it is not to happen in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom, why should your sister have voluntarily tied herself up there?”
“But what could possibly happen in Mrs. Ilam’s bedroom?” demanded Pauline, with a nervous start of apprehension.
“How do I know?” Carpentaria replied. “I can only point to certain indications, which lead to certain conclusions. You will oblige me by watching, Miss Dartmouth.”
“Where?”
“The landing and the stairs of your house. Is there a view of the stairs from your room?”
“Yes,” said Pauline.