"He intimated something of the sort to me," said Simmonds; "but there's no evidence against them."
"No," I conceded; "that's what we've got to find."
"Where are we going to look for it?"
"There's only one place to look for it, and that's in the house where the murder was committed. I only wish we could get Miss Vaughan out of it—that would give us a freer hand."
"What's the matter with the fool girl, anyway?" demanded Simmonds. "I should think she'd jump at a chance to get away."
"So should I—but she isn't reasonable, just now. I can't make her out. Perhaps she'll come round in a day or two, but meanwhile, if she should happen to need help, I don't see how your men out on the road, on the other side of a twelve-foot wall, could do any good."
Simmonds rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"What would you suggest?" he asked, at last.
"Why not put them in the grounds, as soon as it is dark, and let them conceal themselves near the house? They can get over the wall on this side. We've got ladders. Besides," I added, "it would be a great mistake to give Silva any reason to suspect he's being watched. He'd see the men out on the road, sooner or later; but they could keep out of sight among the shrubbery."
Simmonds considered this for a moment.