For a few days prior to her contemplated visit Susan was very fidgety; so to occupy her mind and prevent it from dwelling too anxiously on the perils of her task, she employed herself in a way which was peculiarly congenial and interesting to her. She set to work to forge as well as she was able—and she succeeded very fairly—a variety of documents; some purported to be letters from Catherine King, and other members of the late Secret Society; there were copies too of imaginary warrants for the arrest of unknown persons, whose appearance was carefully described. All these pointed to a great danger which threatened those who had been connected with the Sisterhood, especially Mary Duncan. There were other papers too which tended to show that the members of the Society attributed their peril to the treason of one of their number—clearly Mary—who was accused of having made certain disclosures to the authorities. They were alarming documents, intended to prove clearly that the young mother was suspected by both sides, was being hunted down by both the police and by her old associates.
Susan would laugh to herself as she completed each of these works of art, and would look at them with no small pride. "I wonder if she will be fool enough to swallow all this?" she asked herself. "And yet why not? If she does believe in them, she will see that one course only is left to her—to fly from England, to desert her husband and her child, so as not to bring disgrace upon their heads. I believe I am on the right track at last. Ah! Susie, you have not forgotten your cunning after all!"
At last the fatal Saturday arrived, and she started for St. John's Wood, armed with her papers, intending to show some, all, or none of them, to Mary, exactly as circumstances should make expedient.
She prowled about in the neighbourhood of the house, till she saw the doctor go out. She followed him to the railway station and satisfied herself that he had started; but she did not observe that the shabby old woman with the basket was following her also, though at a long distance, never losing sight of her.
Susan walked back to the doctor's house, reaching it about ten minutes after he had left it, and rang the bell.
The housemaid opened the door.
"How is Mrs. Duncan to-day? I have called to see her," Susan said.
"Mrs. Duncan is very ill, ma'am, and she is not allowed to see anyone."
"Oh! but it is all right," Susan explained, "I am Mrs. Duncan's oldest friend. I have just met the doctor on my way here. He would have come back with me; but he said he had no time to do so, as he was obliged to catch the train to P——"