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"I am foolish," she whispered, "foolish and wicked to-night. And besides, I am afraid. It is all because I am overtired. Come in with me for one moment, please, and let me be sure that Isaac is all right. Feel how I am trembling."
"Of course I will come," he answered. "Isaac can't be angry with me to-night, anyhow, for my clothes are old and dusty enough."
He opened the door and they pa.s.sed across the threshold. Then they both stopped short and Ruth gave a little start. The room was lit with several candles. There was no sign of Isaac, but a middle-aged man, with black beard and moustache, had risen to his feet at their entrance. He glanced at Ruth with keen interest, at Arnold with a momentary curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" Ruth demanded. "What right have you in this room?"
The man did not answer her question.
"I shall be glad," he said, "if you will come in and shut the door.
If you are Miss Ruth Lalonde, I have a few questions to ask you."
CHAPTER XXIV
ISAAC AT BAY
Arnold had a swift premonition of what had happened. He led Ruth to a chair and stood by her side. Ruth gazed around the room in bewilderment. The curtained screen which divided it had been torn down, and the door of the inner apartment, which Isaac kept so zealously locked, stood open. Not only that, but the figure of a second man was dimly seen moving about inside, and, from the light shining out, it was obviously in some way illuminated.
"I don't understand who you are or what you are doing here," Ruth declared, trembling in every limb.
"My name is Inspector Grant," the man replied. "My business is with Isaac Lalonde, who I understand is your uncle."
"What do you want with him?" she asked.
The inspector made no direct reply.
"There are a few questions," he said, "which it is my duty to put to you."
"Questions?" she repeated.
"Do you know where your uncle is?"
Ruth shook her head.
"I left him here this morning," she replied. "He has not been out for several days. I expected to find him here when I returned."
"We have been here since four o'clock," the man said. "There was no one here when we arrived, nor has any one been since. Your uncle has no regular hours, I suppose?"
"He is very uncertain," Ruth answered. "He does newspaper reporting, and he sometimes has to work late."
"Can you tell me what newspaper he is engaged upon?"
"The _Signal_, for one," Ruth replied.
Inspector Grant was silent for a moment.
"The _Signal_ newspaper offices were seized by the police some days ago," he remarked. "Do you know of any other journal on which your uncle worked?"
She shook her head.
"He tells me very little of his affairs," she faltered.
The inspector pointed backwards into the further corner of the apartment.
"Do you often go into his room there?" he asked.
"I have not been for months," Ruth a.s.sured him. "My uncle keeps it locked up. He told me that there had been some trouble at the office and he was printing something there."
The inspector rose slowly to his feet. On the table by his side was a pile of articles covered over with a tablecloth. Very deliberately he removed the latter and looked keenly at Ruth. She shrank back with a little scream. There were half a dozen murderous-looking pistols there, a Mannerlicher rifle, and a quant.i.ty of ammunition.
"What does your uncle need with these?" the inspector asked dryly.
"How can I tell?" Ruth replied. "I have never seen one of them before. I never knew that they were in the place."
"Nor I," Arnold echoed. "I have been a constant visitor here, too, and I have never seen firearms of any sort before."
The inspector turned towards him.
"Are you a friend of Isaac Lalonde?" he asked.
"I am not," Arnold answered. "I am a friend of his niece here, Miss Ruth Lalonde. I know very little of Isaac, although I see him here sometimes."
"I should like to know your name, if you have no objection," the inspector remarked.
"My name is Chetwode," Arnold told him. "I occupy a room on the other side of the pa.s.sage."
"When did you last see Isaac Lalonde?"
Arnold did not hesitate for a moment. What he had seen at Hampstead belonged to himself. He deliberately wiped out the memory of it from his thoughts.
"On Thursday evening here."
The inspector made a note in his pocket-book. Then he turned again to Ruth.
"You can give me no explanation, then, as to your uncle's absence to-night?"
"None at all. I can only say what I told you before--that I expected to find him here on my return."
"Was he here when you left this morning?"
"I believe so," Ruth a.s.sured him. "He very seldom comes out of his room until the middle of the day, and he does not like my going to him there. As we started very early, I did not disturb him."
"Have you any objection," the inspector asked, "to telling me where you have spent the whole of to-day?"
"Not the slightest," Arnold interposed. "We have been to Bourne End, and to a village in the neighborhood."