"I want Miss Duggan, please."
The maid withdrew with a discreet, "Yessir," and it was not many seconds later when Maud Duggan herself appeared, looking pale and distraite and exceedingly unhappy.
"You wanted me, Mr. Deland?"
"I did. Just for a moment," replied Cleek gently, noting her dark-ringed eyes, and in the present state of his mental peregrinations feeling more than a little sorry for her. "I've something to show you. And I want you to tell me exactly to whom they belong and how you think they got where my boy discovered them."
Then he pulled the wrappings from his bulky parcel and set the hunting-boots in front of her upon a little marquetrie table.
She gave a sudden start, went pale as death, and shut her hands against her heart as though to stop its unruly beating. Her pale lips trembled.
"Angus's!" she exclaimed in a wrung voice. "Where—did you find them?"
Cleek turned his head away, not to see her evident distress. It hurt him miserably to hurt her. It was like whipping a faithful dog that trusted you.
"I thought so. The name, you see, is inside. My man found them hidden in the shrubbery, just near the gates, and brought them along to me at once. Do you know anything about how they got there, Miss Duggan?"
She shook her head vigorously.