They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events, when Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden arrival.
“Is Percy here?” she asked Cornish. “Have you seen him this morning?”
“He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the Vyverberg. He was going down to the works.”
“Then he never got there,” said Dorothy. “I have had nearly all the malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a report that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?” “Yes. Von Holzen is dead.”
“And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out the profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury. They would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but——”
“But they were afraid of you, my dear,” said Mr. Wade, filling in the blank that Dorothy left.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Well played,” muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. “I will go down to the works,” he said.