“Let me be the judge of that,” said Salt gently. “What did you see?”
“By the time I reached the strawberry trees and looked back, the lawn was empty. It was still empty when—”
“Excuse me, Miss; what about the gate-house?”
“I couldn’t see the towers from that spot; I was on the wrong side of the knoll that overlooks the court.”
“Quite. Thank you, Miss.”
“So I watched the lawn and the House. I could almost see it growing darker while I waited, the light changes so rapidly in the Vale. And I hate the twilight—all the really terrible things here happen then.” She broke off, and we knew that she must be thinking of that one terrible thing in the gloaming of a week ago. Alberta made a movement as if to check her from continuing. “No, it’s all right. I was just realizing what a fool I am. The time of day can’t possibly make any difference.”
“I don’t believe it does,” acquiesced Salt. “But go on, if you please.”
“It was darkening so suddenly that I thought I shouldn’t be able to recognize anyone who might appear. But when Mr. Bannerlee came out of the park, I saw him quite plainly. He seemed to hesitate when he came past the Hall, but then he went on faster and disappeared in the direction of the front entrance.”
“Heatheringham beckoned me to hurry,” I put in.
“There was nobody in sight then, but I believe I heard the winch working under the towers. A minute or two later Mr. Heatheringham appeared from down below, looking this side and that, and occasionally glancing upward.”