Chapter XVI.
The Last Attack in the Maze
When Ardsley and the Chief Constable entered the other room they found Wendover with Ernest Shandon and Arthur. In the stress of his emotion, Ernest seemed to have flown to his usual comforter, for he had a decanter and a syphon at his elbow. Arthur Hawkhurst seemed to be endeavouring to restrain his feelings to the best of his ability; but it was obvious at a glance that his nerves were all on edge.
“Miss Forrest isn’t here?” Sir Clinton inquired, though the question was needless.
“No,” Ernest hastened to explain. “She’s not here. I think she must be somewhere else—upstairs in her own room, perhaps, or else somewhere about the house. Or she may have gone out with Torrance. He’s gone for a walk. Quite possibly she went out with him. Very thoughtful of them to leave us to our grief, very thoughtful. I don’t know how we’ll get over this; I really don’t know. Sylvia was so useful about the place—made things run so smoothly, you know. We’ll miss her terribly.”
He drank some of his whisky and soda.
“Where’s Stenness?” demanded Arthur, as though to show that he had himself under control.
“He’s busy,” Sir Clinton explained.
“He’s lucky to have something to be busy with,” Arthur commented. “I wish I’d something to do to take my mind off this business just now.”
Ernest drank some more whisky and soda thoughtfully, then put his hand into his pocket and seemed to feel for something.
“I’ve lost my cigar-case,” he announced disconsolately. “Really, everything seems to be going wrong together, these last few days.”