“No, Alan don’t ask me to. I want to go down to Rotherhithe.”
“What for?” asked Dick surprised.
Marie looked at him disdainfully, for she gathered very plainly that he was not on her side. “To ask questions of that woman who keeps the house where Mr. Grison was murdered.”
“Mother Slaig? Oh, my dear Miss Inderwick you can’t go and see her. She is a virago, and her house is most disreputable. Besides she cannot help you, as she gave her evidence at the inquest——”
“And didn’t accuse Uncle Ran at all,” interrupted Marie. “I shall get at the truth if I see her.”
“Marie,” said Alan quickly, “you can’t go down to Rotherhithe.”
“I can and I shall,” cried Miss Inderwick with another stamp, and looked like a small goddess of war. “Uncle Ran shan’t be hanged for what he never did, if I can help it.”
“So long as he keeps away he cannot be caught to be hanged,” said Alan in a pacific manner, for it was necessary to deal in a wary manner with the infuriated girl. “Meanwhile I shall look into the matter and do my best to clear his character. If you go to see Mother Slaig, you may prevent Mr. Sorley’s innocence from being proved.”
“But I want to help,” cried Marie, weeping again; “he is my uncle.”
“You shall help,” said Alan, taking her in his arms, “when I know in what way you can aid us. Marie, doesn’t everyone in the village know about the accusation of your uncle, and that a detective is in the house?”