“She was in the house, sir. There was nowhere else for her to go, and she was deaf and didn’t know anything about what happened the night before, and confined to her room, and—and so I didn’t tell her.”
“I see,” Hewitt said with a slight smile. “You left her here. She didn’t see or hear anything, did she?”
“No sir; she can’t hear, and she didn’t see nothing.”
“And how do you know thieves have been in the house?”
“Everythink’s tumbled about worse than ever, sir, and all different from what it was yesterday; and there’s a box o’ papers in the attic broke open, and all sorts o’ things.”
“Have you spoken to the police?”
“No, sir; I’m that frightened I don’t know what to do. And missis was going to see a gentleman about it yesterday, and——”
“Very well, I am that gentleman—Mr. Martin Hewitt. I have come down now to meet her by appointment. Did she say she was going anywhere else as well as to my office and to her sister’s?”
“No, sir. And she—she’s got the snuff-box with her and all.” This latter circumstance seemed largely to augment the girl’s terrors for her mistress’s safety.
“Very well,” Hewitt said, “I think I’d better just look over the house now, and then consider what has become of Mrs. Mallett—if she isn’t heard of in the meantime.”