“Mrs. Saumarez used this room as a dressing-room,” she said, “and while turning out rubbish from a set of drawers I came across this.”
She displayed a small red-covered folding road-map, such as cyclists and motorists use. Martin thought he recognized it.
“I believe that is the very map lost by Fritz Bauer, Mrs. Saumarez’s chauffeur,” he said.
“Probably, sir. He made a rare row with Miss Angèle about it. I was half afraid he meant to shake her. No one knew what had become of it, but either Miss Angèle or her mother must have hidden it. Why, I can’t guess.”
Elsie helped to smooth over an awkward incident. She took the map and began to open it.
“It couldn’t have been such an important matter,” she said. Then she shook apart the folded sheet, and they all saw that it bore a number of entries and signs in faded ink, black and red. The written words were in German, and Elsie scanned a few lines hurriedly. She looked puzzled, even a trifle perturbed, but recovered her smiling self-possession instantly.
“The poor man, being a foreigner, jotted down some notes for his guidance,” she said. “May I have it?”
“With pleasure, miss,” said the old lady.
It was not until the party had returned to the vicarage that Elsie explained her request. She spread the map on a table, and her smooth forehead wrinkled in doubt.