"I'll dress at once," she said. "My bedroom door is locked, so this is the only way I can escape. Get out something dark for me to wear, Hannah."
She called thus to her maid inside. With a smile she intimated to Prout that she might keep him a little time waiting. It did not matter how long seeing that he had his bird fast in the toils.
A quarter of an hour passed, and then a trim maid with dark short hair, and in the smart starched style peculiar to good servants, appeared. She gave one glance of indifference at Prout, and then passed down the stairs. From his window he could see the very neat figure crossing the square.
Time passed and he grew impatient. He coughed as he looked into the bedroom. Then he said something strong under his breath. Nobody was there. The opposite door was locked, but the bird had flown.
With a disturbed face Prout passed into the street. The men were still there.
"See anybody leave the house?" Prout asked.
"Nobody but a servant, and a pretty one," the other said.
"Then you be after her as soon as possible," Prout groaned. "We're done, Smithers. That smart lady's-maid was Countess Lalage!"