“You are very unreasonable,” said Jacob. “How can a poor lady who is off her head be disturbed with company?”
“Of course, I forgot,” answered the girl. “And the rats, too, might frighten the guests. Oh! it’s best as it is, no doubt.” Her eyes flashed in a knowing way.
“By the way, Mr. Jacob,” she called out as the man was disappearing down one of the passages, “have you heard the latest news?”
“No,” he said, arresting his steps as he spoke.
“Why, it is this,” answered Hester, running up to him, “there’s been no end of a big burglary took place last night at Castle Stewart. The postman brought us the news this morning.”
“I have not heard anything of it,” replied Jacob. “A burglary, did you say—not really?”
“Yes, really, and a very big one. The burglars got in through one of the upper windows—they say they had rope ladders with them and all kinds of modern contrivances—and they broke open the safe in Lady Arabella’s dressing-room, and took off all her jewels and a lot of plate from the butler’s pantry besides. The police are scouring the country to try and catch some of the thieves.”
“It is a good thing we have one of Clever’s safes here,” remarked Jacob.
He stood quite silent for a moment, evidently thinking hard. Then he went to find Mrs. Ferguson to let her know that his young mistress had given him permission to take his holiday.
That evening Crossley the detective was enjoying his pipe over a snug fire in his little house near Clapham Common. He had gone through a day of hard work, and was just in the humour to appreciate some well-earned rest, when his servant opened the door and announced a visitor. The next moment Short stood before him.