The Lost Heir

"That window was at the side of the house, miss; a little way round the corner. We noticed the light there, but there was another window looking out on the front. We did not see any light there, as the shutters were closed."

"And you say that the curtains of the other window were pulled very close?"

"Yes, they crossed each other most of the way down."

"Now, the question in my mind, Roberts, is which would be easier – to cut a slit in the curtain, or to bore a hole in the shutter, or to take a brick out carefully from the side wall and then to deepen the hole until we got to the wall-paper, and then make a slight hole there?"

Roberts looked at her with astonishment. "Do you really mean it, miss?"

"Certainly I mean it; it seems to me that our only chance of ever finding Walter is to overhear those men's talk."

"Then, miss, I should say that the simplest way would be to cut a window pane out."

"Yes; but, you see, it is pretty certain that that curtain will not be drawn until they come in, and they would notice it at once. If we took out a pane in the front window the shutter would prevent our seeing or hearing, and the man would be sure to notice the pane was missing as he walked up from the gate to the house."

"I should say, miss, that the best plan would be for me to manage to get into the house some time during the day and to hide in that room, under the table or sofa or somewhere, and listen to them."

She shook her head.

"In the first place, Roberts, you would certainly be murdered if they found you there."

"I would take my chance of that, miss; and you may be sure that I would take a brace of the General's pistols with me, and they would not find it such easy work to get rid of me."

"That may be so," Netta said, "but if in the struggle you shot them both, our last chance of ever hearing of Walter would be gone. You yourself might be tried for murder, and it would be assumed, of course, that you were a burglar; for the explanation that you had broken into the house only to hear a conversation would scarcely be believed. Moreover, you must remember that we don't know how often these men meet. Simcoe has not been there since you tracked him there six months ago, and the only thing we have since found out is that the man I saw him with in the park is the man who lives in that house. It would never do for you to make an entrance into the house night after night and week after week, to run the risk of being detected there, or seized as you entered, or caught by the police as a burglar. No, as far as I can see, the only safe plan is to get out a brick very carefully in the side wall and to make a hole behind it through the paper. It might be necessary to make an entry into the house before this was done, so as to decide which was the best spot for an opening. A great deal would depend upon the paper in the room. If it is a light paper, with only a small amount of pattern upon it, any hole large enough to see through might be noticed. If it is a dark paper, well covered, a hole might be made without any fear of its catching the eye. You see, it must be a rather large hole, for, supposing the wall is only nine inches thick, a person standing outside could not see what was passing inside unless the hole were a good size."

"But I doubt much if you would be able to hear them, Miss Netta."

"No, I don't think that I should; especially as people talking of things of that sort, even if they had no great fear of being overheard, would speak in a low voice. But that would not matter if I could see their faces. I should know what they were saying."

Roberts did not think it right to offer any remark on what appeared to him to be impossible, and he confined himself to saying in a respectful voice, "Indeed, Miss Netta."

"I am stone-deaf," she said, "but have learned to read what people are saying from the movement of their lips."

Although the "Indeed, miss," was as respectful as before, Netta saw that he did not in the slightest degree believe her.

"Just go to the other end of the room, Roberts, and make some remark to yourself. Move your lips in the same way as if you were talking, but do not make any sound."

Roberts, with military obedience, marched to the other end of the room, placed himself in a corner, and turned round, facing her. His lips moved, and, confident that she could not know what he was saying, he expressed his natural sentiments.

The girl at once repeated the words: "Well, I'm jiggered! This is a rum start; Miss Netta has gone clean off her head."

Roberts' jaw dropped, and he flushed up to the hair.

"I am sure," he began; but he was stopped by the girl's merry laugh.

"Do not apologize, Roberts; it was natural enough that you should be surprised. Well, you see I can do as I say. We will now go on with our talk."

Greatly abashed, Tom Roberts returned to the chair, murmuring to himself as he sat down, "Well, I'm blowed!" when he was roughly recalled to the necessity of keeping his mouth shut by her quiet remark, "Never mind about being blowed at present, Roberts; let us talk over another plan. Who are the keepers of the house in Jermyn Street?"

"It is kept by a man and his wife, miss. He has been a butler, I believe, and his wife was a cook. He waits upon the gentlemen who lodge there, and she cooks. They have a girl who sweeps and does the bedrooms and the scrubbing and that sort of thing."

"What sort of a girl is she, Roberts?"

"She seems a nice sort of young woman, miss. Andrew has spoken to her more than I have, because, you see, my get-up aint likely to take much with a young girl."

"I suppose she is not very much attached to her place?"

"Lor', no, miss; she told Andrew that she was only six months up from the country, and they don't pay her but eight pounds a year, and pretty hard work she has to do for it."

"Well, Roberts, I want to take her place."

"You want – " and Roberts' voice failed him in his astonishment.

"Yes, I want to take her place, Roberts. I should think that if you or Andrew were to tell her that you have a friend up from the country who wants just such a place, and is ready to pay five pounds to get one, she might be ready to take the offer; especially as you might say that you knew of a lady who is in want of an under-housemaid and you thought that you could get her the place."

"As to that, miss, I have no doubt that she would leave to-morrow, if she could get five pounds. She told Andrew that she hated London, and should go down home and take a country place as soon as she had saved up money to do so."

"All the better, Roberts; then all she would have to do would be to say that she had heard of a place near home, and wanted to leave at once. She did not wish to inconvenience them, but that she had a cousin who was just coming up to London and wanted a place, and that she would jump at it. She could say that her cousin had not been in service before, but that she was a thorough good cleaner and hard worker."

"And do you mean that you would go as a servant, Miss Netta? Why, it would not be right for you to do so."

"Anything would be right that led to the discovery of Walter's hiding place, Roberts. I have been accustomed to teaching, and I have helped my aunt to look after the house for years, and I do not in the slightest degree mind playing the part of a servant for a short time, in order to try and get at the bottom of this matter. You think that it can be managed?"

"I am sure it can be managed right enough, miss; but what Miss Covington would say, if she knew that I had a hand in bringing it about, I can't say."

"Well, you won't be drawn into the matter. I shall say enough to my aunt to satisfy her that I am acting for the best, and shall simply, when I go, leave a note for your mistress, telling her that I have gone to work out an idea that I have had in my mind, and that it would be no use for her to inquire into the matter until she hears of me again."

"What am I to tell Andrew, miss?"

"Simply tell him that a young woman has been engaged to watch Simcoe in his lodgings. Then tell him the story he has to tell the girl. I shall want three or four days to get my things ready. I shall have to go to a dressmaker's and tell her that I want three or four print gowns for a young servant about my own figure, and as soon as they are ready I shall be ready, too."

"Well, miss, I will do as you tell me, but I would say, quite respectful, I hope that you will bear in mind, if things goes wrong, that I was dead against it, and that it was only because you said that it was our only chance of finding Master Walter that I agreed to lend a hand."

"I will certainly bear that in mind," Netta said with a smile. "Talk it over with Andrew to-night; but remember he is only to know that a young woman has been engaged to keep a watch on Simcoe."

"He will be glad enough to hear, miss, that someone else is going to do something. He says the Colonel is so irritable because he has found out so little that there is no bearing with him."

"The Colonel is trying," Netta laughed. "As you know, he comes here two or three times a week and puts himself into such rages that, as he stamps up and down the room, I expect to hear a crash and to find that the dining-room ceiling has fallen down. He is a thoroughly kind-hearted man, but is a dreadful specimen of what an English gentleman may come to after he has had the command of an Indian regiment for some years, and been accustomed to have his will obeyed in everything. It is very bad for a man."

"It is a good deal worse for his servant, miss," Tom Roberts said, in a tone of deep sympathy for his comrade. "I doubt whether I could have stood it myself; but though Andrew expresses his feelings strong sometimes, I know that if you offered him a good place, even in Buckingham Palace, he would not leave the Colonel."

Two days later Netta heard that the girl in Jermyn Street had joyfully accepted the offer, and had that morning told her master that she had heard that she was wanted badly at home, and that a cousin of hers would be up in a day or two, and would, she was sure, be very glad to take her place. The master agreed to give her a trial, if she looked a clean and tidy girl.

"I shall be clean and tidy, Roberts; and I am sure I shall do no injustice to her recommendation."

Roberts shook his head. The matter was, to his mind, far too serious to be joked about, and he almost felt as if he were acting in a treasonable sort of way in aiding to carry out such a project.

On the following Monday Hilda, on coming down to breakfast, found a note on the table. She opened it in haste, seeing that it was in Netta's handwriting, and her eyes opened in surprise and almost dismay as she read: