Meanwhile Karl had got through the maze; and cautiously, after listening, let himself out at the gate. No human being, that he could discern, was within sight or hearing; and he crossed the road at once. Then, but not before, he became aware that his agent, Mr. Smith, was in that favourite spot and attitude of his, leaning his arms on the little garden gate, his green glasses discarded--as they generally were after sunset. "Goodnight," said Karl in passing. But some words of the agent's served to arrest his progress. "Would you mind stepping in for one moment, Sir Karl? I wanted to say just a word to you, and have been watching for you to come out." "Is it anything particular?" asked Karl, turning in at the gate at once, which Mr. Smith held open. "I'll get a light, sir, if you will wait an instant." Karl heard the striking of a match indoors, and Mr. Smith reappeared in the passage with a candle. He ushered Karl into the room on the left-hand; the best room, that was rarely used. "This one has got its shutters closed," was the explanatory remark. "I generally keep the others open until I go to bed." "Tell me at once what it is you want," said Karl. "It is late, and I shall have my household wondering where I am." "Well, Sir Karl, first of all, I wish to ask if you are aware that you were watched into the Maze tonight?" He spoke in the lowest whisper; scarcely above his breath. The agent's one servant had been in bed at the top of the house long before: but he was a cautious man. "No. Who watched me?" "Two people, sir. One was Miss Blake, the lady staying with you at the Court; the other was a confounded fellow who is at Foxwood for no good, I guess, and is pushing his prying nose on the sly into everything." "Do you mean Mr. Strange?" "That's the name: a lodger at Mother Jinks's. He and the lady watched you in, Sir Karl; they stood close by the gate among the trees; and then they walked off down the road together." Karl's pulses beat a shade more quickly. "Why should they have been watching me? What could be their motive?" "Miss Blake did not intend to watch--as I take it. I saw her coming along with a sharpish step from the direction of that blessed St. Jerome's, late as it was--Cattacomb may have been treating his flock to a nocturnal service. When she was close upon the Maze she must have heard your footsteps, for she drew suddenly behind the trees to hide herself. After you were in, she came out of her shelter, and another with her--the man Strange. So he must have been hidden there beforehand, Sir Karl: and, I should say, to watch." Karl was silent. He did not like to hear this. It seemed to menace further danger. "I went in to warn Sir Adam against this man," he observed; "to tell him never to be off his guard, day or night. He is a London detective!" "What--Strange is?" exclaimed the agent, with as much astonishment as his low tones allowed him to express. "A London detective, Sir Karl?" "Yes, he is."