“Oh, quite so; it is most likely that your Annie has, in some way, been inveigled into joining these Sisters—has been taken possession of by them, in fact, just as they have taken possession of the little cripples.”
“That’s it!” he cried excitedly; “that was the idea that occurred to me when you spoke to me on the hill about them, otherwise you may be sure—”
“Did they get relief of any sort at the Hall?” interrupted Loveday.
“Yes; one of the two ugly old women stopped outside the lodge gates with the donkey-cart, and the other beauty went up to the house alone. She stayed there, I should think, about a quarter of an hour, and when she came back, was followed by a servant, carrying a bundle and a basket.”
“Ah! I’ve no doubt they brought away with them something else beside old garments and broken victuals.”
White stood in front of her, fixing a hard, steady gaze upon her.
“Miss Brooke,” he said presently, in a voice that matched the look on his face, “what do you suppose was the real object of these women in going to Wootton Hall this morning?”
“Mr. White, if I wished to help a gang of thieves break into Wootton Hall tonight, don’t you think I should be greatly interested in procuring from them the information that the master of the house was away from home; that two of the men servants, who slept in the house, had recently been dismissed and their places had not yet been filled; also that the dogs were never unchained at night, and that their kennels were at the side of the house at which the butler’s pantry is not situated? These are particulars I have gathered in this house without stirring from my chair, and I am satisfied that they are likely to be true. A the same time, if I were a professed burglar, I should not be content with information that was likely to be true, but would be careful to procure such that was certain to be true, and so would set accomplices to work at the fountain head. Now do you understand?”
White folded his arms and looked down on her.
“What are you going to do?” he asked, in short, brusque tones.
Loveday looked him full in the face. “Communicate with the police immediately,” she answered; “and I should feel greatly obliged if you will at once take a note from me to Inspector Gunning at Reigate.”
“And what becomes of Annie?”
“I don’t think you need have any anxiety on that head. I’ve no doubt that when the circumstances of her admission to the Sisterhood are investigated, it will be proved that she has been as much deceived and imposed upon as the man, John Murray, who so foolishly let his house to these women. Remember, Annie has Mrs. Copeland’s good word to support her integrity.”
White stood silent for awhile.
“What sort of a note do you wish me to take to the Inspector?” he presently asked.
“You shall read it as I write it, if you like,” answered Loveday. She took a correspondence card from her letter case, and, with an indelible pencil, wrote as follows—
“Wooton Hall is threatened to-night—concentrate attention there.
“L. B.”
White read the words as she wrote them with a curious expression passing over his handsome features.
“Yes,” he said, curtly as before. “I’ll deliver that, I give you my word, but I’ll bring back no answer to you. I’ll do no more spying for you—it’s a trade that doesn’t suit me. There’s a straight-forward way of doing straight-forward work, and I’ll take that way—no other—to get my Annie out of that den.”