“Not surprised!” I exclaimed; “what do you mean?”
“Just this: I have been expecting Mrs. Atkins to make an attempt to escape, and have tried to prevent her doing so.”
“How?” I inquired.
“One of my men has been watching her night and day. He is stationed in your house, and I am extremely annoyed that he has allowed her to slip through his fingers, although I must say he has some excuse, for she certainly managed things very neatly.”
“But Mr. Merritt,” I exclaimed, “do you now think Mrs. Atkins guilty?”
He smiled enigmatically, but said nothing.
“This is a very serious matter for me,” I continued. “After what you repeatedly said to me, I thought you scouted the probability of her being in any way implicated in this murder. It was on the strength of this assurance that I induced Atkins to confide in you. Had I known that you were having her shadowed I shouldn’t, of course, have advised him to put his case in your hands. I feel dreadfully about this. It is exactly as if I had betrayed the poor fellow. I must warn him at once.”
I stopped.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he urged, laying a detaining hand on my arm.