“Why, yes, ma’am. Things look very black against your young lady friend yonder.”
And he nodded in the direction of the Blue Lion.
“Now, Mr. Hemming, I will not hear a word against that girl,” said Miss Bostal, with sudden warmth. “I tell you the notion is absurd that the child should have had anything to do with it. And I am surprised to hear such a preposterous suggestion from a man of your discernment.”
The detective looked down at his hat.
“It does you credit, ma’am, to take her part,” he said, rather dryly. “Still, there are some questions I must ask the colonel, if he will give me five minutes. And I’m sure I shall be glad enough if he can help to clear her.”
“My father will see you, I am sure,” said Miss Bostal, promptly, going to the door. “Because he is as sure as I am that all light on this matter is in Miss Claris’s interest.”
And, rather resentfully glancing at him as she went out, she crossed the stone-flagged passage, and told her father that the London detective wished to see him.
“Show him in here,” Hemming heard the colonel answer, in tones much more disturbed than his daughter’s.
Miss Theodora ushered Hemming into the dining-room, which looked snug and warm after the cold bareness of the state apartment; and then she left the two men together.
“I’ve come to ask you, sir,” said Hemming, when he had apologized for intruding, “whether you have any firearms stored away about the house?”