"Well, we have not quite proved that yet. The links of the chain run something like this: Mrs. Arne, whoever she may be, gives Clara (whoever she may be) a character which is palpably false. I mean false as regards her identity, not her capability; for that you proved to be all that was said for it. From this fact we are justified in concluding that she, Mrs. Arne, is in some way implicated. I feel convinced myself that Clara was not a servant. Semberry induces you to engage her--that proves his connection; and Carson meets Clara several times, and clearly is intimate with her. The wrist-button would seem to connect Drabble with Carson, and the Soho address associates him with Clara. Save the address and the wrist-button, which, of course, are substantial facts, the rest is deduction pure and simple. But it is logical deduction, and, to my thinking, it points strongly to a secret association for some secret purpose between all these people. The purpose, I take it, was to secure this sum of fifty thousand pounds."
"But what makes you think that Clara has not gone to London?"
"That letter," replied Mallow, promptly. "It was very bulky. I believed it contained a report of our conversation here to-day. Clara was in the next room. You remember how, when she heard my voice, she came in with an obviously feigned excuse? I noticed when she returned to the bedroom she left the door ajar. Overhearing us, of course, she became aware of your doubts as to Carson's identity. She probably became alarmed lest you should go further and discover her connection with him. That, I think, is the reason of her sudden departure; whilst the very existence of the letter seems to me to show that London was not her destination. Had she been going there, she need not have written it. She could have called at Poplar-Street, Soho, and said what she had to say. Do you follow? She has probably got out at some station on the way up, and is now on her way to Dover, en route for Italy."
Olive passed her hand over her forehead. "It's all very confusing," she said, in a troubled voice.
"And all very fanciful, you might add," rejoined Mallow. "Are you sure she has taken her box?"
"The chambermaid said so."
Mallow shook his head. "We had better not rest content with second-hand evidence when we can have first," said he. "Where is her room? Can we go and see?"
"Oh yes. I should have gone before, but I have been so confused with one thing and another. Let us go and search it at once."
Taking a lighted candle from a side table, Olive led the way along the corridor. The room was not far away. They could find no box there.
"She must have removed it while I was out," said Olive in dismay. "I took a stroll shortly after you left; my head was aching so. Oh, what a wicked, artful girl!"