“Why?”
“’Cause Mistress Armroyd she says as she see a gypsy lurkin’ round the place just before dark, sir; and he had a queer thing like a bear’s muzzle in his hand.”
“Ah, I see!” said Cleek; and gave one of his odd smiles as he turned round and looked at the superintendent. “All ready, Mr. Narkom? Good! Let us go over to the Round House and investigate this interesting case. Dollops, stop where you are and look after the caravan. If we are away more than a couple of hours, tumble into bed and go to sleep. We may be a short time or we may be a long one. In affairs like this one never knows.”
“Any ideas, old chap?” queried Narkom in a whisper as they forged along together in the wake of Nippers and his three companions.
“Yes—a great many,” answered Cleek. “I am particularly anxious, Mr. Narkom, to have a look at those footprints and an interview with Miss Renfrew. I want to meet that young lady very much indeed.”
CHAPTER VIII
Twenty minutes later his desires in that respect were granted; and, having been introduced by Mr. Nippers to the little gathering in the sitting-room of the house of disaster as “a friend of mine from Scotland Yard, miss,” he found himself in the presence of one of those meek-faced, dove-eyed, “mousy” little bodies who seem born to be “patient Griseldas”; and in looking at her he was minded of the description of “Lady Jane” in the poem:
“Her pulse was slow, milk white her skin—