“I’ll meet you here shortly. Sam doesn’t live far away, and he’ll be at home now; probably in bed and asleep.”
“I’d like you to hurry, if you please. And if I’m not here when you return, come to the graveyard.”
“The graveyard!”
“She’ll want to put away the money that Miss Phœbe gave her to-day, you know.”
“Of course, Toby. I’ll hurry.”
He turned and walked swiftly away, while the clerk went back to his post of observation. A candle was burning in one of the upper rooms and it dimly lighted the form of Jonathan Eliot, seated beside his favorite window. Now and then Miss Halliday passed one of the windows. She had on a shawl and bonnet.
The judge was prompt. He encountered the constable just coming home from town, and immediately dragged him away, explaining the case as they walked.
Sam Parsons was a man of few words and he knew Judge Ferguson. He asked no questions, understanding he was merely to arrest old Miss Halliday if she tried to get away. The judge knew the reason for this action, and that was all that was necessary, for the time being.
Toby met them and posted them beside the path Elaine must take to get to the tomb. From their cover they gazed curiously at the muffled form of old Jonathan Eliot; but the examination was brief, for suddenly the light went out.
“She’s coming!” whispered Toby. “I’ll follow her first, and then you must follow me at a safe distance.”