“Quite. Miss Winslow went upstairs and saw a man at her window. There’s a ladder at it. She screamed and the lights went out. Why?”
“The rascals got at the powerhouse. Baker found the main switch off.”
“Then they knew their way about here. Have you sacked any servant lately? Had any strange workman in the place? No? Yet the intelligence work was very sound. Well, in the darkness Miss Winslow tumbled out into the passage and was grabbed and screamed, and the brave Faulks ran upstairs and took a black eye, and Miss Winslow took the count, and when we arrived there wasn’t a burglar in sight. Yes, there was some luck about.”
“Not for Sally,” said her sister.
“No,” said Reggie thoughtfully. “No, but there was a lot of luck going.” He surveyed them through his cigar smoke with a bland smile.
“What do you think I ought to do, Fortune?” said Tom Beach.
“Go to bed,” said Reggie. “What’s the time? Time runs on, doesn’t it? Yes, go to bed.”
“Oh, but, Mr. Fortune, you are disappointing,” Alice Beach cried.
“I am. I notice it every day. It’s my only vice.”
“I do think you might be interested!”