“It’s a fact. Some of them are idiots enough to believe that--that you knew something about that scoundrel’s death.” “I see.” Her face lightened as if she began to perceive my drift. “You mean that they suspect me of having murdered him. That’s no news.” “But I fear they go beyond suspicion.” “Beyond suspicion? Do you mean that they can prove it?” “Miss Moore! You are severe. I mean that--they may try to arrest you.” “Arrest me! Arrest me!” She drew herself straight up, her small fists clenched at her sides. “But they mustn’t arrest me. You mustn’t let them.” “I won’t.” “How--how can you stop them?” “I shall be only too glad to act as your guardian, if you care to try a trip abroad until they perceive their own stupidity.” “A trip abroad--with you.” The suggestion which the words conveyed, as she pronounced them, had not entered my thick skull. I was thunderstruck. “Or--or I could stay behind; or come on by the next train.” “I don’t see what good that would do me.” “I’d take care that they didn’t lay their sacrilegious hands upon you.” “I don’t see how--if you weren’t there.” I began to stamp about the room. I had forgotten that the fact of her being a woman made a difference in all sorts of ways. The situation was more complicated than I had allowed for. “Miss Moore, I’m an idiot.” “Yes?” There was something in the way in which she laid emphasis on the note of interrogation which robbed the word of its sting. “But I’m not, in some respects, such an idiot as you might suppose.” “Oh.” This was said with a twinkle of laughter. “Can you trust me?” “With my life; with what is dearer.” “Will you do as I tell you?” “Implicitly.” “Go upstairs, put your hat and coat on, and some things in a bag.” “How many things? In what sized bag?” “Enough to take you to Paris.” “To Paris? Am I going to Paris? Oh, but I’m wanted at the theatre; they’re clamouring for me.” “Let them clamour. Will you be so kind as to do what I tell you? Excuse me, Miss Moore, one moment! Do you mind my bringing a man in here, and making him comfortable, till after we are gone?” “Please explain.” “Well, there’s a man in the street who, I believe, is watching the house.” “Is he going to try to arrest me? Has he a warrant in his pocket?” “Nothing of the kind. Only he might try to follow us to see where we went, and that wouldn’t be convenient.” “Do you propose to hurt him?” “Not a hair of his head! I promise you.” “Are you going to try on him the effect of a little reasoning? You certainly have, beyond other men, the persuasive manner. You might induce him to see things in a proper light. If you think it necessary, you can try.” Her words reminded me of what old Morley had said. I thought the sarcasm was a little hard. I winced. “There is one other thing, Miss Moore. How many servants have you in the house?” “One at present. The cook is out.”