"I mentioned the matter, Miss Dorothy, because I had occasion to go to his room shortly after dinner on an errand. He appeared to be packing a small bag."
Again Budge hesitated. He felt uneasy, because her face had assumed an odd expression. She got up.
"When did he leave the house?"
Budge glanced at the clock on the mantel-shelf. Its hands pointed to eleven-forty-five. "I am not certain, Miss Dorothy," he replied. "Quite soon after dinner, I think. He went away on his motor-bicycle. Mr. Martin had asked me to get him an electric bicycle-lamp as being-ah-more convenient for his sojourn across the way. That is how I happened to notice Mr. Herbert's departure. I went out to the stable to detach a lamp from one of the machines, and — ah-he drove past me…."
(Odd how Miss Dorothy was taking this! Of course, she had a right to be upset, what with Mr. Herbert's unheard — of departure without a word to anybody, and the safe standing open for the first time in fifteen years; but he did not like to see her show it. He felt as he had once felt when he peeked through a keyhole and saw — Budge hastily averted his thoughts, embarrassed at remembering his younger days.)
"It's strange I didn't see him," she was saying, looking at Budge steadily. "I sat on the lawn for at least an hour after dinner."
Budge coughed. "I was about to say, Miss Dorothy, that he didn't go by the drive. He went out over the pasture, towards Shooter's Lane. I noticed it because I was some time in finding a proper lamp to take to Mr. Martin, and I, saw him turning down the lane then."
"Did you tell Mr. Martin of this?"
Budge permitted himself to look slightly shocked. "No, Miss Dorothy," he answered, in a tone of reproof. "I gave him the lamp, as you know, but I did not think it within my province to explain―"
"Thank you, Budge. You needn't wait up for Mr. Martin."