“I am sorry to say that he is very unwell,” I answered, “and he is obliged to keep to his room. And I am afraid that he will not be able to leave it for several days.”
She did not appear much concerned. I watched her closely, and with much relief.
“I am sorry,” she remarked, politely. “However, so far as I am concerned, I suppose after all there would be very little object in my seeing him. I have been to most of the oldest residents round here, and they all seem certain that they have never heard of the name Maltabar.”
I saw Bruce Deville start, and the hand which held his teacup shook. Adelaide Fortress and he exchanged swift glances. The girl, whose eyes were scarcely off him for a moment, noticed it too, although I doubt if she attached the same significance to it.
“You do not know—you have not heard recently of any one of that name?” she asked him. “Please tell me! I have a reason for being very much interested.”
He shook his head.
“If I have ever heard the name at all it must have been very long ago,” he said; “and certainly not in connection with this part of the world.”
She sighed.
“I suppose you do not know who I am, or why I am here,” she said. “My name I told you once, although I daresay you have forgotten it. It is Berdenstein. The man who was found dead, who was killed close to here, was my brother.”
He murmured a few words of sympathy, but he showed no surprise. I suspected that he had known who she was and of her presence here before.