“Oh! Helen,” she cried—and then she saw Latham, and paused disconcerted.
“He knows all about Hugh, Angela,” Helen said.
“Thank goodness! Now perhaps we shan’t be long! Something dreadful has happened. My chauffeur has just brought me a note. The detectives have found out that Hugh has been at my house. Two detectives are waiting there now to question me. They may be here any moment. Thank goodness Palmer had the sense to send me word. But, what shall we do? They may be here any moment, I tell you.”
“Yes,” Latham said, “unless they have been here already.” He went to the bell and rang it. Why he rang he did not say. And neither of the women asked him, only too content, as all but the silliest women, or the bitterest, are, to throw the responsibility of immediate practical action in such dilemmas on to a man they trusted. The three waited in silence until Barker said—
“You rang, miss?”
“I rang, Barker,” Latham answered. “Has any one been here lately asking for Mr. Hugh?”
“Yes, sir. This afternoon, sir.”
“This afternoon!” Helen cried in dismay.
“Yes, miss, about an hour ago, two men come—came.”
“What did you tell them?” Latham asked quickly. “I told them the truth, sir, of course, as I ’adn’t never been told to tell them anything else, that he has never been here, not once since the master died.”