“I have something of great interest to tell you, madam. I have lately arrested a man who belongs to a notorious school of burglars—he was discovered uttering a forged cheque. In searching his house I found a similar half sheet of paper to that already in my possession, with the same cipher and the same hieroglyphics.” “Impossible!” said Nance, springing to her feet, and speaking in great excitement. “Then you have really found the man?” “Pray sit down, Mrs. Rowton. I have not found the man, but I have found a clue which may lead to him. Now I want you to allow me take certain steps in order to make my suspicion a certainty.” “What are they?” “I want, with your permission, to locate a member of my staff at Rowton Heights.” “You do! What can you possibly mean?” “Simply what I say, Mrs. Rowton. In order to make my suspicion a certainty a member of my staff must come here.” “But why?” “I would rather not say at present. Remember, young lady, that I have asked you to give up this search—you wish to continue it to the bitter end. The clue which I have unexpectedly acquired points to a certain track—that track lies red and hot round Rowton Heights.” “You excite and terrify me,” said Nance, turning white as death. “Even now, ma’am, we can drop the whole thing.” “Never, never; my heart palpitates with eagerness to go on. Oh! that I could find that coward, that ruffian, that assassin! If it is necessary for your purpose to send a man here, let him come.” “I thank you, Mrs. Rowton. The question now to consider is, in what guise he had best appear on the scene.” “Do you mean to imply that the man we are seeking for is in this house?” “I mean to imply nothing of the kind, young lady. I believe, however, that a member of my staff may do good work if his headquarters are here for a short time.” “He shall come,” said Nance, “he shall come. Send him down at once.” “It would be fatal to our purpose, madam, if the least suspicion were aroused. Now let me think. Can you manage another footman?” “I don’t know anything about the servants—they are entirely managed by my housekeeper, Mrs. Ferguson. We are a small family and we have two footmen here at present.” “Has Mr. Rowton a valet?” asked Crossley, knitting his brows as he spoke. “No, he never will have one. He hates to have people about him when he is dressing.” “Some gentlemen are like that,” said Crossley. “It must be the footman then. There is nothing for it, Mrs. Rowton, but for you to dismiss one of your servants.” “I don’t know how that is possible,” answered Nance—“the two footmen who are here at present grew up in the village, and are, I believe, much attached to the place.” “You must make an excuse to get rid of one of them. Watch him when he commits some slight indiscretion, give him notice, pay him a month’s wages and a trifle over if you like, and then wire to me. My man shall come down quickly to take his place.”