Without another word she went and called her brother.
He came in and the two men met at last. “This is Mr. Halley—my brother,” she said.
Sefton looked at Halley, and started with a puzzled look on his face, and half turned back to his room. With an effort he pulled himself together, and held out his hand.
“I am glad to meet you,” he said “and thank you for what you have done for my sister,” but there was a false ring in his voice which Ena was quick to notice.
Halley spoke rapidly. “Mr. Sefton, I wish I had met you before; now I am afraid I come on a rather unpleasant business. I am sorry. I want you to believe me a friend; I will do anything to help.”
“What on earth do you mean?” asked Jack crossly.
“I want to ask you one question; please don’t think me impertinent; what do you do at The Red Cote?”
Sefton staggered for a moment, and then sat heavily on a chair. His face was ghastly.
“The Red Cote?” he said in a hoarse voice.
A loud knock sounded at the door, and both Sefton and his sister were frozen in their places, while Halley rose and walked across the room and opened the door. Outside three men were standing—Fletcher, Sergeant Andrews, and Brown the Constable. It was Andrews who spoke.