It
was Gertrude, going back quickly toward the house.
I was surprised. I waited until she had had time to get almost
to the house before I started. And then I stepped back again
into the shadows. The reason why Gertrude had not kept her tryst
was evident. Leaning on the parapet of the bridge in the
moonlight, and smoking a pipe, was Alex, the gardener. I could
have throttled Liddy for her carelessness in reading the torn
note where he could hear. And I could cheerfully have choked
Alex to death for his audacity.
But there was no help for it: I turned and followed Gertrude
slowly back to the house.
The frequent invasions of the house had effectually prevented any
relaxation after dusk. We had redoubled our vigilance as to
bolts and window-locks but, as Mr. Jamieson had suggested, we
allowed the door at the east entry to remain as before,
locked by the Yale lock only. To provide only one possible
entrance for the invader, and to keep a constant guard in the
dark at the foot of the circular staircase, seemed to be the only
method.
In the absence of the detective, Alex and Halsey arranged to
change off, Halsey to be on duty from ten to two, and Alex from
two until six. Each man was armed, and, as an additional
precaution, the one off duty slept in a room near the head of the
circular staircase and kept his door open, to be ready for
emergency.
These arrangements were carefully kept from the servants, who
were only commencing to sleep at night, and who retired, one and
all, with barred doors and lamps that burned full until morning.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178