And the pseudo Mrs. Stein brought ink and paper and placed them on the table. Rosie Campbell wrote a brief note, and then fastened it down with a bit of sealing-wax before she handed it over to Lady Molly. The note was addressed to Miss Marvell, Scotia Hotel, Cromwell Road.
“You understand?” she said eagerly. “Don’t give the note to the man unless he says ‘Rosie’ in reply to the word ‘Campbell.’ ”
“All right—all right!” said Lady Molly, slipping the note into her reticule. “And you go up to your room, Miss Campbell; it’s no good giving that old fool Tredwen too much to gossip about.”
Rosie Campbell went upstairs, and presently my dear lady and I were walking rapidly down the badly-lighted street.
“Where is the man?” I whispered eagerly as soon as we were out of earshot of No. 34.
“There is no man,” replied Lady Molly, quickly.
“But the West End shop thief?” I asked.
“He hasn’t been caught yet, and won’t be either, for he is far too clever a scoundrel to fall into an ordinary trap.”
She did not give me time to ask further questions, for presently, when we had reached Reporton Square, my dear lady handed me the note written by Campbell, and said:
“Go straight on to the Scotia Hotel, and ask for Miss Marvell; send up the note to her, but don’t let her see you, as she knows you by sight. I must see the chief first, and will be with you as soon as possible. Having delivered the note, you must hang about outside as long as you can. Use your wits; she must not leave the hotel before I see her.”