Twice she essayed to speak, but no sound came.
"I—I—er—know him," she faltered at length.
"I wondered," said Malcolm Sage slowly.
"What does this mean, Mr. Sage?" enquired Sir Lyster.
"I will tell you," said Malcolm Sage, whilst Lord Beamdale placed a chair into which Miss Blair collapsed. "Last night whilst you were at dinner Miss Blair opened your safe with a duplicate key made from a wax impression. She abstracted a valuable document, putting in its place some sheets of blank paper." He paused.
"Go on," almost gasped Mr. Llewellyn John.
"She took the document to her room and hid it, a little uncertain as to how she should get it to her accomplice. This morning she saw Sir Lyster's note on the hall-table, and emboldened by the thought that the theft had not been discovered, she cycled out to Odford and posted the document to Paul Cressit at his chambers in Jermyn Street." Again Malcolm Sage paused and drew from his pocket a note.
"In the envelope was enclosed this note." He handed to Mr. Llewellyn
John a half sheet of paper on which was typed:
"Paul, dearest, I have done it. I will ring you up to-morrow. I shall ask for Tuesday off. You will keep your promise, dear, and save me, won't you? If you don't I shall kill myself.—G."
"Miss Blair," said Sir Lyster coldly, "what have you to say?"
"N-nothing," she faltered, striving to moisten her grey lips.