“I suppose we should be able to manage,” he conceded with lessened gruffness. “Get upstairs and put your things on, and see you don’t disturb Nancy. You’ll not be more than two or three days, I reckon?” “But I’d best just have a word with her before I go?” she protested. “You’d best do as I tell you,” he snapped, “or you won’t go at all!” It was not much better than prison fare that Inman took upstairs during the day, and he was content with simple meals himself. When night fell he set an inch or two of candle on the dressing table, with the curt recommendation to get to bed and make up for the previous night’s loss of sleep, to which she made no reply. No sooner had the sound of his footsteps on the stairs ceased than a change came over her. She rose with alacrity, drew down the blind and lit the candle, after which she went up to the door and secured it on the inside with the bolt Inman had fixed as a measure of precaution when he had brought home Nancy’s money. A smile was in her eyes but her mouth was determined. “What a clever fool he is!” she said to herself; “and how thoughtful of him to send Keturah away. Every plan he makes fails!” The recess beside the fireplace had been made into a closet which served the purpose of a wardrobe, and was filled with Nancy’s clothes. A shelf ran across the upper portion, filled with hat boxes and the like, and the various skirts and coats which concealed the background were themselves screened by similar garments that were suspended from hooks affixed to the shelf. This outer layer of everyday apparel Nancy proceeded to remove, together with one or two others from the row behind. It was then possible to see that the back of the recess was composed of a door of plain boards and ancient workmanship which had at one time afforded a means of communication with the next apartment. Treading cautiously, she crossed the strip of carpet and stepped out on to the landing. Her husband was still in the house, for she could hear his voice below in conversation with another, which she recognised as Stalker’s, and she had to wait awhile before the two men came out and stood in the passage. “I shall be back i’ t’ village by twelve at t’ latest,” the policeman was saying. “I reckon t’ sergeant’ll meet me down Kirkby way somewhere about eleven. I’ll be back afore Drake gets stirring—if he stirs at all.” “Then you think he’s given the job up?” Inman asked. “He knows I’ve my eye on him,” the other replied. “Whether he’s stalled or no time’ll tell.” “I’ve to see Tom Horton at Kirkby,” Inman remarked. “He sits up late, does Tom, and if I walk down with you we can talk things over as we go along. When I get back I’ll keep an eye on the Drakes’ house for a bit.”