"Mr. Chestermarke, you heard that the housekeeper here has disappeared?" he asked sharply. "Can you tell anything about it?"
"What have I to do with Horbury's housekeeper?" retorted Joseph. "Do your own work!"
He passed on, crossing the Market-Place to the Scarnham Arms, and Polke, after gazing at him in silence for a moment, beckoned to his policeman.
"Come inside, Jones," he said. He led the way into the house and through the hall to the kitchens at the back, where two women servants stood whispering together. Polke held up a finger to the one who had answered Joseph Chestermarke's summons to the parlour that morning. "Here!" he said, "a word with you. Now, exactly when did Mrs. Carswell go out? You needn't be afraid of speaking, my girl—it'll go no further, and you know who I am."
"Not so very long after that young lady was here, Mr. Polke," answered the girl, readily enough. "Within—oh, a quarter of an hour at the most."
"Did she say where she was going—to either of you?" asked Polke.
"No, sir—not a word!"
"To neither of us," said the other—an older—woman, drawing nearer. "She—just went, Mr. Polke."
"Had any message—telegram, or aught of that sort—come for her?" asked Polke. "Had anybody been to see her?"
"There was no message that I know of," said the housemaid. "But Mr. Joseph came to speak to her."