“Of course, Miss,” said he, “it doesn’t do to say too much when one is only investigating like. But I may tell you that you’ve helped me considerably, and in a way you wouldn’t think, to find out the thief who’s given all the bother.”
Again the girl’s face, with its delicate, tell-tale skin, blanched with a spasm of terror. But he did not appear to notice it.
“And now I may just add, in strict confidence, mind, as it’s a thing I don’t want to get known till I’ve actually nabbed the chap, that he’s one of the best-known thieves from the East End of London and has done time more than once.”
As he said these words, with an expression of great cunning, Nell’s face, as easily read as a book, exhibited first astonishment, then relief, and finally a joy which she tried in vain to hide. He could see, even though her eyes were downcast and her mouth tightly drawn, that she could scarcely contain herself for the wild impulse of delight which had succeeded to the torments of his interrogatory.
There was a moment’s pause before she could collect herself to reply in tranquil tones:
“Well, I’m sure, my uncle, and all of us, will be very glad when you’ve caught him. Will you go through this way?”
And opening the inner door of the sitting-room, she directed him to go out through the bar.
The detective smiled to himself when, after having refreshed himself at the bar, and apologized to George Claris, to whom he gave a similar hint to that which he had given to Nell, he found himself once more on the road to Stroan.
He had been so far eminently successful, but there was many a link still wanting in the chain of evidence which was to connect pretty Nell Claris with the robberies at the inn. As he had no intention of returning to his hotel until he had made further investigations at Shingle End, he doubled back by way of the fields when he had gone a short distance along the road, and hung about between the Blue Lion and Colonel Bostal’s house, taking advantage of every bit of hedge and tree to keep out of the range of chance observers.
And it was not very long before he found that some one else was on the watch also. The figure of a man, in a jersey and seaman’s boots, with a felt hat on the back of his head, and a pipe in his mouth, soon attracted his attention. He recognized the man as Jem Stickels, a frequent customer at the Blue Lion, and a person of whom report spoke ill as a confirmed “loafer” and idler, who only worked when he could not help it. He could not be quite certain whether Stickels saw him, but the fisherman was on the lookout for another person, and the detective had little difficulty in guessing that that person was Nell Claris.