“Of course,” I said, “no one can prove anything against you. But did you go to the safe? I didn’t see you do so.”
Winnie’s face clouded. “Yes, I looked in to see if everything was right. Mr. Mudge asked me if I had opened the safe during the night. He said that some one of us had been seen to do it, but he led me to suppose that he suspected some one else. I knew that he had his information from Cynthia, and I was afraid she had seen some one else. I mean—” and here Winnie corrected herself with some confusion—“I was afraid that she might have taken me for some other person, and I was very glad to acknowledge that I was the one who had opened the safe. I don’t think that Mr. Mudge believes that I am the culprit, for he smiled at me in a very friendly way.”
“How could he believe such a thing?” I asked. “It is perfectly nonsensical.”
“But if he does not suspect me, his suspicions will probably fasten on some one else. On you, for instance, or Adelaide,—and I would rather be the scapegoat than have any annoyance come to the rest of you.”
We had reached the Amen Corner, and had just opened the study-parlor door. Winnie gave a little cry of surprise. The door into the studio was open and a strange man stood looking at the broken lock.
CHAPTER V.
L. MUDGE, DETECTIVE.
“The look o’ the thing, the chance of mistake,
All were against me. That I knew the first;
But knowing also what my duty was, I did it.”
Why, Mr. Mudge!” Winnie exclaimed, recovering herself, “excuse me for crying out, but really I did not expect to see you here.”