“Oh,” answered Deede Dawson, with his false laugh and cold-watchful eyes.  “My wife knows nothing at all, but Ella’s the best helper I’ve ever had.  She looks so innocent, she can take in any one, and she never gives the show away, she acts all the time.  A wonderful girl and useful—­you’d hardly believe how useful.”

Dunn did not answer.  It was only by a supreme effort that he kept his hands from Deede Dawson’s throat.  He did not believe a word of what the other said, for he knew well the utter falseness of the man.  None the less, the accusation troubled him and chilled him to the heart, as though with the touch of the finger of death.

“You remember that packing-case,” Deede Dawson added.  “The one you helped me to get away from here the night you came.  Well, she knew what was in it, though you would never have thought so, to look at her, would you?”

His cold eyes were very intent and keen as he said this, and Dunn thought to himself that it had been said more to test any possible knowledge or suspicion of his own than for any other reason.  With a manner of only slight interest, he answered carelessly: 

“Did she?  Why?  Wasn’t it your stuff?  Had it been pinched?  But she was safe enough, the police would never stop a smart young lady in a motor-car, except on very strong evidence.”

“Perhaps not,” agreed Deede Dawson.  “That’s one reason why Ella’s so useful.  But I’ve been thinking things out, and trying to make them work in together, and I think the first thing to do is for you to drive Allen and Ella over to Wreste Abbey this afternoon, so that they may have a good look around.”

“Oh, Miss Cayley and Allen,” Dunn muttered.

The new-comer, Allen, had been making himself very much at home at Bittermeads since his arrival, though he had not so far troubled to any great extent either Ella in the house or Dunn outside.  His idea of comfort seemed to be to stay in bed very late, and spend his time when he did get up in the breakfast-room in the company of a box of cigars and a bottle of whisky.

The suggestion that he and Ella should pay a visit together to Wreste Abbey was one that greatly surprised Dunn.

“All right,” he said.  “This afternoon?  I’ll get the car ready.”

“This is the afternoon the Abbey is thrown open to visitors, isn’t it?” asked Deede Dawson.  “Allen and Ella can get in as tourists, and have a good look round, and you can look round outside and get to know the lie of the land.  There won’t be long to wait, for Rupert Dunsmore will be back from his little excursion before long, I expect.”

He laughed in his mirthless way, and walked off, and Dunn, as he got the car ready, seemed a good deal preoccupied and a little worried.

“How can he know that Rupert Dunsmore is coming back?” he said to himself.  “Can he have any way of finding out things I don’t know about?  And if he did, how could he know—­that?  Most likely it’s only a guess to soothe me down, and he doesn’t really know anything at all about it.”