Therefore the pair, annoyed at their failure, had watched him enter the train for Victoria and for the moment gave up any further attempt. Thus it was that the man had contrived to get on friendly terms with Barclay’s parlour-maid, who had told him that in the house her master had a safe built in the wall in the basement near the kitchen. In it the silver and other valuables were kept, together with a quantity of papers.
No doubt the precious map was held there in safety, and for that reason they were endeavouring to obtain a cast of the key.
It was after all a dangerous job, for the girl might very easily tell her master of the kind gentleman who had offered twenty pounds for the wherewithal to play a practical joke. And if so, then the police would no doubt be informed and watch would be kept.
With that in view, Freda was next night idling near the spot arranged, close to where one buys “Maids of Honour,” and though Allen was in the vicinity, he did not appear.
At last the girl came and waited leisurely at the corner, whereupon after a few moments Freda approached her and said pleasantly:
“You are waiting for Mr Elton, I believe?”
“Yes, I am,” replied the girl, much surprised. “He is sorry he can’t be here. He had to go to the north this afternoon. He’ll be back in a day or two. He gave me fifteen pounds to give to you for something. Have you got it?”
“Yes,” replied the girl. “Come along, madam, where it’s dark and I’ll give it to you.”
So they moved along together around a corner where they would not be observed, and in exchange for the three five-pound notes the girl handed the woman the little tin matchbox with the impression of a key in the wax.
“You’ll say nothing, of course,” said Freda. “You’ve promised Mr Elton to say nothing.”