And away went the eavesdropper, crushed, still tingling with that fear of the supernatural latent in every heart, but far from convinced.
Furneaux tripped downstairs. The routing of Robinson had put him into a real good humor. He found the three in the dining-room gazing spell-bound at the felt hat.
“Now, young lady, you’re coming with me,” he said, grinning amiably. “The Sussex constabulary is quelled for the hour.”
“But, Mr. Furneaux, I recognize that hat!” said Doris, and it was notable that even Hart remained silent.
The detective looked at her strangely, but put no question.
“I am almost sure it belongs to our local Amateur Dramatic Society,” went on the girl. “It was worn by Mr. Elkin last November. He played a burlesque of Svengali. I was Trilby, and caught a horrid cold from walking about without shoes or stockings.”
“Don’t tell me any more,” was Furneaux’s surprising comment. “I’ll do the rest. But let me remark, Miss Martin, that I experienced great difficulty, not so long ago, in persuading friend Grant that you were the only important witness this case has provided thus far. Playing in a burlesque, were you? We’ve been similarly engaged to-night. The farce must stop now. It makes way for grim tragedy. Not one word of to-night’s events to anyone, please.... Are you ready?”
Doris stood up. Hart thrust the negro’s head at the detective.
“Fouché,” he said, “do you honestly mean slinging your hook without making any inquiry as to Owd Ben?”
“Oh, the ghost!” said Doris eagerly. “The Bateses would think of him, of course. An old farmer named Ben Robson used to live in this house about the time of Napoleon. He was suspected by the authorities to be an agent of the smugglers, and the story goes that his own daughter quarreled with him and betrayed him. He narrowly escaped hanging, owing to his age, I believe, and was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. At last he was released, being then a very old man, and he came straight here and strangled his daughter. It is quite a terrible story. He was found dead by her side. Then people remembered that she had spoken of someone scaring her by looking in through that small window some nights previously. Naturally, a ghost was soon manufactured. I really wonder why the man who rebuilt and renamed the place in the middle of last century didn’t have the window removed altogether.”