“You wanted to make him angry?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! I thought so!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I knew there was something serious underneath. It’s about Mr. Saffren?”
“It is serious indeed, I fear,” I said, and turning to my own easel, began to get my traps together. “I’ll tell you the little I know, because I want you to tell Mrs. Harman what has just happened, and you’ll be able to do it better if you understand what is understandable about the rest of it.”
“You mean you wouldn’t tell me so that I could understand for myself?” There was a note of genuine grieved reproach in her voice. “Ah, then I’ve made you think me altogether a hare-brain!”
“I haven’t time to tell you what I think of you,” I said brusquely, and, strangely enough, it seemed to please her. But I paid little attention to that, continuing quickly: “When Professor Keredec and Mr. Saffren came to Les Trois Pigeons, they were so careful to keep out of everybody’s sight that one might have suspected that they were in hiding—and, in fact, I’m sure that they were—though, as time passed and nothing alarming happened, they’ve felt reassured and allowed themselves more liberty. It struck me that Keredec at first dreaded that they might be traced to the inn, and I’m afraid his fear was justified, for one night, before I came to know them, I met Mr. ‘Percy’ on the road; he’d visited Madame Brossard’s and pumped Amedee dry, but clumsily tried to pretend to me that he had not been there at all. At the time, I did not connect him even remotely with Professor Keredec’s anxieties. I imagined he might have an eye to the spoons; but it’s as ridiculous to think him a burglar as it would be to take him for a detective. What he is, or what he has to do with Mr. Saffren, I can guess no more than I can guess the cause of Keredec’s fears, but the moment I saw him to-day, saw that he’d come back, I knew it was THAT, and tried to draw him out. You heard what he said; there’s no doubt that Saffren stands in danger of some kind. It may be inconsiderable, or even absurd, but it’s evidently imminent, and no matter what it is, Mrs. Harman must be kept out of it. I want you to see her as soon as you can and ask her from me—no, persuade her yourself—not to leave Quesnay for a day or two. I mean, that she absolutely MUST NOT meet Mr. Saffren again until we know what all this means. Will you do it?”
“That I will!” And she began hastily to get her belongings in marching order. “I’ll do anything in the world you’ll let me—and oh, I hope they can’t do anything to poor, poor Mr. Saffren!”
“Our sporting friend had evidently seen him with Mrs. Harman to-day,” I said. “Do you know if they went to the beach again?”
“I only know she meant to meet him—but she told me she’d be back at the chateau by four. If I start now—”
“Wasn’t the phaeton to be sent to the inn for you?”