“And the inn?  When was that closed?”

“Just after their arrest.”

“Has’nt it been opened since?”

“Only once when a brace of detectives came up from Troy to investigate, as they called it.”

“Who has the key?”

“Ah, that’s more than I can tell you.”

I dared not ask how my questions differed from those of Mr. Blake, nor indeed touch upon that point in any way.  I was chiefly anxious now to return to New York without delay; so paying my bill I thanked the landlord, and without waiting for the stage, remounted my horse and proceeded at once to Putney where I was fortunate enough to catch the evening train.  By five o’clock next morning I was in New York where I proceeded to carry out my programme by hastening at once to headquarters and reporting my suspicions regarding the whereabouts of the Schoenmakers.  The information was received with interest and I had the satisfaction of seeing two men despatched north that very day with orders to procure the arrest of the two notable villains wherever found.

CHAPTER VIII

A WORD OVERHEARD

That evening I had a talk with Fanny over the area gate.  She came out when she saw me approach, with her eyes staring and her whole form in a flutter.

“O,” she cried, “such things as I have heard this day!”

“Well,” said I, “what? let me hear too.”  She put her hand on her heart.  “I never was so frightened,” whispered she, “I thought I should have fainted right away.  To hear that elegant lady use such a word as crime,—­”

“What elegant lady?” interrupted I.  “Don’t begin in the middle of your story, that’s a good girl; I want to hear it all.”

“Well,” said she, calming down a little, “Mrs. Daniels had a visitor to-day, a lady.  She was dressed—­”

“O, now,” interrupted I for the second time, “you can leave that out.  Tell me what her name was and let the fol-de-rols go.”

“Her name?” exclaimed the girl with some sharpness, “how should I know her name; she did’nt come to see me.”

“How did she look then?  You saw her I suppose?”

“And was’nt that what I was telling you, when you stopped me.  She looked like a queen, that she did; as grand a lady as ever I see, in her velvet dress sweeping over the floor, and her diamonds as big as—­”

“Was she a dark woman?” I asked.

“Her hair was black and so were her eyes, if that is what you mean.”

“And was she very tall and proud looking?”

The girl nodded.  “You know her?” whispered she.

“No,” said I, “not exactly; but I think I can tell who she is.  And so she called to-day on Mrs. Daniels, did she.”

“Yes, but I guess she knew master would be home before she got away.”

“Come,” said I, “tell me all about it; I’m getting impatient.”