Mr. Edwin Barley said something about making Mr. Chandos retract his orders before the day was over; but the men were not to be intimidated.
"The lady has not been behaving on the square, sir, and we thought at first she would be given into custody. But Mr. Chandos considered it over; and said, as she had been able to effect no great harm, he'd let her go."
Mr. Edwin Barley looked to Mrs. Penn for an explanation. Instead of giving it, she whispered in his ear the information about George Heneage. For the first time for years, Mr. Edwin Barley's face twitched with powerful emotion.
"WHAT do you say?" he asked in his surprise and bewilderment.
"What I say is plain: George Heneage, the murderer of your ward, the indirect murderer of your wife, is in concealment at Chandos," said Mrs. Penn, rather tragically. "The mysteries of that west wing have been cleared to me. Anne Hereford penetrated to it yesterday for some purpose of her own, and saw him: an emaciated being she described him, bearing a striking resemblance to Harry Chandos. Now what do you say to my having entered the house as a detective, Mr. Edwin Barley? And it is for having pursued my investigations that Mr. Chandos has turned me forth in in this ignominious manner."
Mr. Edwin Barley drew in his lips. She said not a word, be it understood, of the illegitimate mode in which she had pursued the said investigation. He turned matters rapidly over in his mind, and then addressed the policeman.
"What were you intending to do with this lady?"
"Our orders were to see her into your house, sir. Nothing more."
"My mission in this part of the world is over," interrupted Mrs. Penn; "I shall leave it for London this afternoon. Until then, say for an hour or two, I shall be glad to find a shelter in your house, Mr. Edwin Barley."
"Very good. After that you are at liberty, I presume, to take orders from me?" he added to the officers. And they signified they were if he had any to give.