Yes, there wasn't any doubt about it; Gretchen was a conspirator. The police were hunting for her, and she was threatened with discovery. It was beyond my imagination what she could have done. Moreover, she was rather courting danger; the military post was only five miles down the river. The one thing which bothered me was the "him" who had suddenly intruded upon the scene, invisible, but there, like Banquo's ghost. Perhaps her beauty had lured some fellow to follow her fortunes and his over-zeal, or lack of it, had brought ruin to some plot.
"Gretchen," said I, as I jumped into bed, "whoever he was, he must have been a duffer."
Her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde was in Jericho, and Hillars along with her, where I had consigned them.
Next morning Gretchen waited upon me at breakfast. She was quiet and answered my questions in monosyllables. Presently she laid something at the side of my plate. It was my pipe. I looked at her, but the leads of my eyes could not plumb the depths in hers.
"Thanks," said I. "It dropped from my window last night, while I was playing the disgraceful part of eavesdropper." I dare say she had expected anything but this candid confession. It was very cunning in me. She knew that I knew she knew. Had I lied I should have committed an irreparable blunder.
As it was she lifted her chin and laughed.
"Will you forgive me?"
"Yes; for you certainly wasted your time."
"Yes, indeed; for I am just as much in the dark as ever."
"And will remain so."