“Oh, you’re a policeman, are you? It’s as well that there are such things as policemen after all.” Her meaning was not precisely clear, but I hardly think it was altogether flattering to the force, which was ungrateful on her part. “I don’t think they’ve hurt me. I believe it was the keys they were after, though they’ve left them both behind. Perhaps that was because they hadn’t time to properly search for them.” She was feeling in her pocket. “But they have taken Uncle Benjamin’s letter—the one in which he told us how to get in at the back door.”
There was a pause. I realised all that the abstraction might mean. If it had told us how to enter, it would tell them too. It was lucky they had had to go without the key.
“Do you know the men?” inquired the officer. “You had better charge them.”
“Charge them?” She put her hand up to her head, as if she were dazed. I rather fancied she was making as much of her feelings as she could. Unless I was mistaken she was endeavouring to gain time to consider the policeman’s words. Under the circumstances it might not be altogether convenient to charge them, even though they had proved themselves to be such utter scoundrels. “But I don’t know what men they were.”
“That doesn’t matter; I daresay we know. You mustn’t allow an outrage like this to pass unnoticed; they might have murdered you. I’ll take the charge.”
“Thank you.” She stood up. He had produced his notebook. “I don’t think I’ll trouble you. There are circumstances connected with the matter which render it necessary that I should think it over.”
“What’s there to think about? It was an attempt to rob with violence, that’s what it was; as clear a case as ever I knew. Come, give me your name, miss, then I’ll have the particulars. What name?”
“I’m afraid you must excuse me. When I’ve
