“In that case, Maria, I will ask you to let me look at the address. Aha! Mischief!”
The moment I heard that I threw open the dining-room door. Curiosity is not easily satisfied. When it hears, it wants to see; when it sees, it wants to know. Every lady will agree with me in this observation.
“Pray come in,” I said.
“One minute, Miss Jillgall. My girl, when you give Miss Helena that note, try to get a sly look at her when she opens it, and come and tell me what you have seen.” He joined me in the dining-room, and closed the door. “The other day,” he went on, “when I told you what I had discovered in the chemist’s shop, I think I mentioned a young man who was called to speak to a question of identity—an assistant who knew Miss Helena Gracedieu by sight.”
“Yes, yes!”
“That young man left the note which Maria has just taken upstairs.”
“Who wrote it, doctor, and what does it say?”
“Questions naturally asked, Miss Jillgall—and not easily answered. Where is Eunice? Her quick wit might help us.”
She had gone out to buy some fruit and flowers for Philip.
The doctor accepted his disappointment resignedly. “Let us try what we can do without her,” he said. “That young man’s master has been in consultation (you may remember why) with his lawyer, and Helena may be threatened by an investigation before the magistrates. If this wild guess of mine turns out to have hit the mark, the poisoner upstairs has got a warning.”