When she was safely out of hearing I crossed to the study. Both the Inspector and Mr. Wetherell saw that something had happened, and were going to question me. But I held up my hand.
"Don't ask any questions, but tell me as quickly, and as nearly as you can, what you have been talking about during the last five minutes," I said.
"Why?"
"Don't stop to ask questions. Believe in the importance of my haste. What was it?"
"I have only been giving Mr. Wetherell a notion of the steps I propose to take," said the Inspector.
"Thank you. Now I'm off. Don't sit up for me, Mr. Wetherell; I'm going to follow up a clue that may put us on the right scent at last. I don't think you had better come, Mr. Inspector, but I'll meet you here again at six o'clock."
"You can't explain, I suppose?" said the latter, looking a little huffed.
"I'm afraid not," I answered; "but I'll tell you this much—I saw one of the female servants listening at this door. She'll be off, if I mistake not, with the news she has picked up, and I want to watch her. Good-night."
"Good-night, and good luck to you."
Without another word I slipped off my boots, and carrying them in my hand, left the room, and went downstairs to the morning-room. This apartment looked out over the garden, and possessed a window shaded by a big tree. Opening it, I jumped out and carefully closed it after me. Then, pausing for a moment to resume my boots, I crept quietly down the path, jumped a low wall, and so passed into the back street. About fifty yards from the tradesmen's entrance, but on the opposite side of the road, there was a big Moreton Bay fig-tree. Under this I took my stand, and turned a watchful eye upon the house. It was a dark night, so that it would have been extremely difficult for any one across the way to have detected my presence.