Thus I was compelled to absent myself from the work of excavating in that low-lying fen field a mile beyond the abbey; and at half-past twelve o’clock I alighted from a hansom in Grosvenor Street, and, running up the broad flight of steps to the big portico, rang the bell.
“Yes, sir, her ladyship is expecting you,” was the footman’s response to my inquiry; and without further ceremony he conducted me through the fine hall, filled with magnificent trophies of the chase, and up the wide staircase to a small room on the first floor, wherein, white and haggard, she rose quickly to greet me.
“Oh, Mr Kennedy!” she gasped when the man had closed the door. “I’m so glad to see you safe and well!”
“Why Mr Kennedy?” I asked half-reproachfully.
“Well, Allan, then,” she said, smiling. “But we have no time to lose,” she went on. “I fear that something terrible has occurred; but exactly what, I don’t know.”
“How do you mean? Explain,” I urged excitedly.
“You probably know what occurred down at Crowland last night!” she said. “They obtained the parchment plan, and at once determined to search for the treasure known to be hidden there; but a policeman discovered them and they shot him.”
“I know,” I responded. “And what occurred afterwards?” That was the first time she had mentioned the search for treasure, in any of our talks.
“They returned to London—all three of them.”
“And the woman?”