“What have you done with my husband, sir?” she repeated. “Have you betrayed him, after giving your word? I met a man who looked like a police officer on the stairs.”
“Your husband, Mrs. Belfield, is here and quite safe,” replied Thorndyke. “He has locked himself in that room,” indicating the office.
Mrs. Belfield darted across and rapped smartly at the door. “Are you there, Frank?” she called.
In immediate response the key turned, the door opened and Belfield emerged looking very pale and worn.
“You have kept me a long time in there, sir,” he said.
“It took me a long time to prove to Superintendent Miller that he was after the wrong man. But I succeeded, and now, Belfield, you are free. The charge against you is withdrawn.”
Belfield stood for a while as one stupefied, while his wife, after a moment of silent amazement, flung her arms round his neck and burst into tears. “But how did you know I was innocent, sir?” demanded the bewildered Belfield.
“Ah! how did I? Every man to his trade, you know. Well, I congratulate you, and now go home and have a square meal and get a good night’s rest.”
He shook hands with his clients—vainly endeavouring to prevent Mrs. Belfield from kissing his hand—and stood at the open door listening until the sound of their retreating footsteps died away.
“A noble little woman, Jervis,” said he, as he closed the door. “In another moment she would have scratched my face—and I mean to find out the scoundrel who tried to wreck her happiness.”