"And washing too," I said, "from the glimpse I had of them." Then I got up. "I must be off now," I added, "or I shall be late for the resurrection."
Billy came with me as far as the door. "Shall I meet you somewhere to-morrow?" he asked, "or can you manage to look in here?"
I reflected a moment. "I'll come round in the afternoon," I said. "I'll tell them I want to see how the repairs to the car are getting on."
Feeling pleasantly elated at the thought of the surprise in store for Maurice, I struck out along the road to Ashton at my most brisk pace. I had covered about three-quarters of the distance, and was just turning the corner where I had met Billy before breakfast, when I noticed ahead of me a small boy with a rather dirty face lounging against the bank. As I came up, he straightened himself, looked at me keenly, and stepped out into the road.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but are you Mr. Northcote?"
"That's right, my son," I replied.
Putting his hand in his pocket, he produced a well-thumbed envelope. "Lady asked me to give you this, sir."
I took the letter and opened it. By the rapidly fading light I could just see to read the contents—
"If you put any value on your life, you will leave Ashton immediately. Guarez and the others have followed you down, and your cousin is in league with them. It is my fault, so I take this last chance of warning you. I can do no more. If you are indeed wrongly accused, I pray God that you will escape while there is yet time. Destroy this letter. M.S."
"Where did you get this?" I asked.