"I think you are inclined to take a great deal for granted," said Miss Vale. But in spite of the words, her eyes were wide with alarm.
"He told you of the deaf-mute, Locke," said Ashton-Kirk; "and also other things, which seem to have induced you to visit Locke at the Institute near Cordova on the night before last."
Miss Vale elevated her brows in surprise; her attitude was one of wonderment.
"I don't think I understand."
"And you did not seem to understand yesterday when I called upon you. You fancied that I was not sure that I had seen you, and had come expecting you to admit the visit to Locke. And as I went away, you also fancied that you had thrown me off the scent." He smiled at the recollection, in spite of his evident resentment of her position. "But the fact of the matter was that I knew your fiancé had been the cause of your visit to the mute. You had seen Morris, you knew where he was, and I thought it would be a useful thing for me to be also acquainted with his whereabouts."
"But," protested Miss Vale in a faint voice, but still acting her chosen role to the best of her gifts, "if I had known and desired to conceal his whereabouts, surely you did not expect me to tell you of it."
"Not directly. But, if you remember, I dropped a hint that his hiding-place was about to be discovered. This was true; you were about to disclose it. I had only to wait and follow as you rushed off to warn him."
She leaned back in her chair and regarded him strangely, but he proceeded with evenness:
"Your work upon the road was very clever; I congratulate you upon it. But it was scarcely sufficiently inspired to deceive an old hand."
Here he waited, apparently expecting her to speak. But as she did not take advantage of the pause, he went on: