With a brief but determined apology, he left the alcove, where they had been talking, and hurried to Dorcas’ side.
“Have you heard?” he said, as he fell into step and walked with her toward the door.
“Yes; I can’t talk here,—I can’t breathe! Can we go for a walk?”
“Of course, why not?”
“I thought you were busy with those—people.”
“Perhaps they think so, too, but I don’t care! Come on; hasten your steps just a little and don’t look back.”
Apparently carelessly, but really with a feeling of stealth, the pair made their way to the street, Bates feeling guiltily conscious of the detectives’ disapproval, and Dorcas afraid of her action being reported to her mother.
“I’ve been waiting so to see you,” she exclaimed, as soon as they were at a safe distance from The Campanile. “Do tell me all about it! My mother has gone to call on your aunt,—and I thought I’d come down and see if I could run across you. Mother’ll be there some time, I’ve no doubt, and I took a chance.”
“Bless you! But, tell me, how did your mother hear? What do you know? I mean, what’s the general report?”
“Nothing definite, but all sorts of rumors,—which mother tried to keep from me. But she and Kate were talking, and I found out that the chambermaid told them that woman had killed Sir Herbert. Mother told me he had died suddenly, but she didn’t know I overheard about the murder.”