“The difficulty seems to be,” quoth Mr. Gryce eyeing those gloves with his most intent and concentrated look, “that the girl did not go alone, but was helped away, or forced away, by parties who had previously broken into your house.”

“That is a strange circumstance,” remarked Mr. Blake, but still without any appearance of interest, “and if you are sure of what you say, demands, perhaps, some inquiry.  I would not wish to put anything in the way of justice succoring the injured.  But—­” again he gave that slight shrug of the shoulders, indicative of doubt, if not indifference.

Mrs. Daniels trembled, and took a step forward.  I thought she was going to speak, but instead of that she drew back again in her strange hesitating way.

Mr. Gryce did not seem to notice.

“Perhaps sir,” said he, “if you will step upstairs with me to the room occupied by this girl, I may be able to show you certain evidences which will convince you that our errand here is not one of presumption.”

“I am ready to concede that without troubling myself with proof,” observed the master of the house with the faintest show of asperity.  “Yet if there is anything to see of a startling nature, perhaps I had best yield to your wishes.  Whereabouts in the house is this girl’s room, Mrs. Daniels?”

“It is—­I gave her the third story back, Mr. Blake;” replied that woman, nervously eyeing his face.  “It was large and light for sewing, and she was so nice—­”

He impatiently waved his hand on which he had by this time fitted his glove to a nicety, as if these details were an unnecessary bore to him, and motioned her to show the way.  Instantly a new feeling appeared to seize her, that of alarm.

“I hardly think you need trouble Mr. Blake to go up-stairs,” she murmured, turning towards Mr. Gryce.  “I am sure when you tell him the curtains were torn, and the chair upset, the window open and—­”

But Mr. Gryce was already on the stairs with Mr. Blake, whom this small opposition seemed to have at once determined.

“O my God!” she murmured to herself, “who could have foreseen this.”  And ignoring my presence with all the egotism of extreme agitation, she hurried past me to the room above, where I speedily joined her.

CHAPTER III

THE CONTENTS OF A BUREAU DRAWER

Mr. Blake was standing in the centre of the room when I entered, carelessly following with his eyes the motion of Mr. Gryce’s finger as that gentleman pointed with unwearying assiduity to the various little details that had struck us.  His hat was still in his hand, and he presented a very formidable and imposing appearance, or so Mrs. Daniels appeared to think as she stood watching him from the corner, whither she had withdrawn herself.

“A forcible departure you see,” exclaimed Mr. Gryce; “she had not even time to gather up her clothes;” and with a sudden movement he stooped and pulled out one of the bureau drawers before the eyes of his nonchalant listener.