and I—were in his bedroom with the door locked.
"Where's the stuff," he inquired, as, much to my astonishment, he got off the chair and walked silently yet firmly to the door, and examined the keyhole. Ella and I stared at each other, neither able to repress a smile at his able tactics and excellent acting.
There was certainly nothing wrong with his ankle.
He glanced at us, caught the expression upon our faces, and said, "You're both of you in it now—you understand? And you've got to help, you've no alternative."
His pale-faced daughter, shaking with excitement and emotion, half-sobbed out the words, "Oh, father, is it really true? Are you a thief? And yet it must be, because I saw you leave Mrs. Cass's room with the jewel-cases, and I know you got out of your bedroom window afterwards. I was looking out of mine, and saw you."
She broke down altogether, and then turning to me said hoarsely, "Mr. d'Escombe, you must leave us. You must not be mixed up in this affair."
"Be quiet, Ella," interrupted her father severely. "And mind your own business.
