[CHAPTER XXVI—THE COUNTER PLOT]
Ferguson's knock on Suzanne's door was promptly answered by the lady herself, still in her hat and wrap. She clutched at him as she had done when he came to her in her dark hour, drawing him into the room and gasping her news. He was in no mood to follow her ramblings and, as soon as she spoke of a letter, interrupted her with a brusque demand for it. After he had mastered its contents he told her to 'phone at once to Larkin that it was all right, and while she delivered the message, stood by studying the paper. When she turned back to him he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. The touch that once would have sent the blood burning to her cheeks called up no responsive thrill now:
"This lets you out—it's the end of your responsibility. Your part now is to be quiet and wait. To-morrow night you'll have Bébita back. Just nail that up in your mind and keep your eyes on it."
"Back where? Will you bring her here?"
It was so like her—so indicative of a mental attitude invariably small and personal, that he could have smiled:
"I can't say, but probably Grasslands. The end of the route laid down isn't so far from there."
"Shall I go back to Grasslands?"
He pondered a moment, then decided it was wiser to trust nothing to her, even so simple a matter as her withdrawal to the country.
"No, stay where you are. There'd be a lot of questioning if you went, bothersome, hard to answer. When we have her I'll let you know. For the rest of this afternoon I'll be in town, in my room here on the floor below. If anything of moment should happen send for me, but don't unless it's vital. I'll be busy getting things ready. Be silent, be grave, be hopeful—that's all you have to do now."
He left her, going directly to his room on a lower floor of the hotel. She felt numb and dazed, wondering how she was to live through the next twenty-four hours. Her parents returned from their drive and close on their entrance came a communication from the Whitney office, saying the jewels had been found and Mr. and Mrs. Janney were wanted downtown. In the midst of their bustling excitement she sat mute, following their movements with vacant eyes. She saw them leave in agitated haste, Mr. Janney forgetful of her, her mother throwing out phrases of comfort as she hurried to the door. She was glad when they were gone and she could be still, draw all her energies inward in the fight for endurance and courage.