Might it not be better, now that she was here, to remain beside the instrument until she could effect communication with Grail, rather than to risk the very dubious chances of again eluding the vigilance belowstairs? But she shook her head. Her absence, once discovered, and with the certainty that she could not have left the house in dishabille, they would never rest until they had ransacked the place from cellar to roof. Her retreat could not fail to be discovered, unless she were able to hide from the prying eyes of the searchers.
The suggestion drew her glance to a closet or compartment at one side of the attic, which, sheathed with iron, and having a combination lock on the door, had been fitted up as a sort of strong room. She had heard it spoken of, and remembered hearing that it was now in disuse and unlocked.
It was the very place. No one would ever dream of her being secreted inside, and she would be almost as safe from discovery as in a burglar-proof vault; yet there was a window at one side to give her light and air, and she could be just as comfortable there as in the wider spaces of the attic outside.
She stepped quickly to the door, but as she paused to fumble with the latch there reached her from within a faint sound of rustling and scratching.
Rats! The idea of opening that door, or seeking refuge in the strong room, died abruptly. With a timorous gasp, she fled down the attic steps as fast as her feet could carry her.
Fortunately, there was no one on the third floor to witness her breathless exit, and, recovering somewhat from her panic, she managed to close the attic door and regain her own room without detection.
Hardly was she safe, however, before Marie made her appearance, looking distinctly worried and upset.
“Where has ma’mselle been?” she demanded, almost crossly. “I have been looking everywhere for her to serve her ze luncheon.”
“I?” Meredith found it hard work not to pant. “Oh, I have just been strolling about the house. By the way, Marie,” deftly turning the subject, “has not that frock of mine come back from the cleaner’s yet?”
Marie was apologetic. The “pig of a cleaner” had deceived her outrageously; she had just sent over for the frock, only to be informed that it would not be finished until four o’clock.