“I hope the prisoner will be found and the truth brought to light,” said Miss Leaton, fervently.
“And I hope so, too; and now, my dear, I will leave the paper for your amusement while I go down and see what Sally is about,” said the landlady, leaving the room.
Eudora, as soon as she found herself alone, picked up the paper, and once more read the imperfect description of her own person.
“How fortunate for me that they did not think of the two little moles on my face! Even my innocent landlady must have detected me by them had they been mentioned,” thought Eudora to herself. Yet still her heart was filled with dismay, and she felt an oppression of the lungs and a difficulty of breathing, that induced her to rise and open the door for a freer circulation of air.
As she did this, her attention was arrested by a knock at the private door down stairs.
As she was in that condition of peril when every sound struck terror to her heart, she paused and listened.
She heard the landlady go to the door and open it, saying, in a tone of surprise and displeasure:
“Well, whatever can be your business here with me or my house or family?”
“We come with a warrant for the arrest of Miss Eudora Leaton, charged with having poisoned her uncle’s family, and supposed to be now lying concealed in your house,” replied a voice that Eudora, in an agony of terror, recognized as that of Sims, the detective policeman, who had had her in custody at Allworth Abbey. Though nearly dying, she leaned far over the railings to hear farther.
“Eudora Leaton in my house, indeed! You must have taken leave of your senses, man! I’ll sue you for slander! Pray, is my house a harbor for poisoners?” exclaimed the landlady, indignantly, placing her arms akimbo, and filling up the door with her burly person.