“Good;” I cried, laughing, “I see you have the very spirit for a detective. I must engage you as a member of our force.”
“Joke if you like, sir. But I have still two good eyes, and I don’t need spectacles to recognize people. Someone is spying on you, that’s certain; and you should put some of your men to track them in turn.”
“All right; I promise to do so,” I said, to satisfy her. “And when my men get after them, we shall soon know what these mysterious fellows want of me.”
In truth I did not take the good soul’s excited announcement very seriously. I added, however, “When I go out, I will watch the people around me with great care.”
“That will be best, sir.”
My poor old housekeeper was always frightening herself at nothing. “If I see them again,” she added, “I will warn you before you set foot out of doors.”
“Agreed!” And I broke off the conversation, knowing well that if I allowed her to run on, she would end by being sure that Beelzebub himself and one of his chief attendants were at my heels.
The two following days, there was certainly no one spying on me, either at my exits or entrances. So I concluded my old servant had made much of nothing, as usual. But on the morning of the twenty-second of June, after rushing upstairs as rapidly as her age would permit, the devoted old soul burst into my room and in a half whisper gasped “Sir! Sir!”
“What is it?”
“They are there!”