"Police," answered the officer. "I'm here to warn you that there's a man has just got into the house. Somebody let him in at this door."
"Man got into the house?" was the alarmed response. "You don't mean that, I hope, policeman?"
"I do," replied the constable. "You had better let us come in and have a look round. We've been watching the house and he hasn't come out yet. My mate's round at the front, and there's a detective officer here. Get a candle and we'll go through the rooms with you."
The thought that he was to be called upon to assist in the arrest of a burglar was too much for the old man. He tremblingly invited the officer to lead the way down the stairs to the basement. While they were absent we remained at the door, expecting every minute to hear the sound of a scuffle from within. Five minutes or so later they ascended once more and the constable shook his head.
"Wherever else he is, sir," he said, addressing me, "he's not down there."
The words had scarcely left his lips before the door at the further end of the passage opened, and the Countess herself stood before us. Much to my astonishment I saw that she was in full evening dress. Her appearance was so entirely unexpected that I could only stare at her in surprise.
"What does this mean?" she enquired, with a haughtiness that sat well upon her. "Why, surely it is Sir George Manderville! What can have happened? This is rather a late hour for a call, Sir George!"
I explained what had occurred, told her of the man I had seen enter by the side door, and whom I was perfectly certain had not come forth again.
"Then he must be in the house now," she cried in a voice of alarm. "Who can it be, and who could possibly have let him in?"