He was at
least certain that Mademoiselle had been alone. She had received no
callers while she was in the hotel, and had not been seen speaking to
any one: but she had gone out a great deal. Why had he not mentioned in
the evening that the young lady had driven away with luggage? For the
sufficient reason that Mademoiselle had particularly requested him to
say nothing of her movements, should any one come to inquire. It was for
the same reason that he had been obliged to deceive Monsieur in the
matter of knocking at her door. And as the porter made this answer, he
looked far more impudent than he had looked last night, though he was
smiling blandly.
How much of this was lies and how much truth? Stephen wondered, when,
having given up hope of learning more from landlord or servants, they
left the hotel.
Nevill had to confess that he was puzzled. "Their stories hold together
well enough," he said, "but if they have anything to hide (mind, I don't
say they have) they're the sort to get up their tale beforehand, so as
to make it water-tight. We called last night, and that man Constant must
have known we'd come again, whether we heard from Miss Ray or whether we
didn't--still more, if we _didn't_. Easy as falling off a log to put the
servants up to what he wanted them to say, and prepare them for
questions, without giving them tips under our noses."
"If they know anything that fat old swine doesn't want them to give
away, we can bribe it out of them," said Stephen, savagely.
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