“Then he must have been there while I was sitting downstairs before you came,” she said, with a shiver at the thought of the danger that was past.
“Yes,” he answered. “The fact that you had a candle alight kept him upstairs. He was afraid of discovery. When we went upstairs to the first floor he must have retreated to the second floor—the top story.”
She remained deep in thought for a few moments.
“I am glad he did not come down,” she said at length. “I am glad I did not see who it was.”
Again Marsland was reminded of the way in which she had greeted him at the door. Could it be that, instead of having gone to the farm for shelter with a companion, she had gone there to meet some one, and that unknown to her the person she was to meet had reached the house before her and had remained hidden upstairs?
“Did you close the front door when we left?” she asked.
“Yes. I slammed it and I heard the bolt catch. Why do you ask?”
“There is something I want to ask you,” she said, at length.
“What is it?”
“I want you to promise if you can that you will not tell the police that I was at Cliff Farm to-night; I want you to promise that you will not tell any one.”