and he inherited the title. Think what
the description of Dun Moat would be like to a girl brought up in the
bush! And maybe her mother was of the lower classes, as no one knew
about the marriage. What if the daughter came into money from sheep or
mines, or something, and meant to propose living at Dun Moat with her
uncle's family? I can _see_ her, arriving _en surprise_, full of
enthusiasm and loving-kindness, which wouldn't 'cut ice' with Madame
Defarge!"
"Not much!" agreed Jim, grimly. "_She'd_ calmly begin knitting the
shroud!"
So we talked on, thrashing out one theory after another, but sure in any
case that there _was_ a prisoner at Dun Moat. Jim made me quite proud by
applauding my plot, and didn't need to be asked before offering to help
carry it out. Indeed, as my "sole living relative" (he put it that way),
he would now take the whole responsibility upon himself. The police were
not to be called in except as a last resort: and that night or next day,
according to the turn of the game, the trump card I'd pulled out of the
pack should be played for all it was worth!
CHAPTER IX
THE RAT TRAP
Did you ever see a wily gray rat caught in a trap? Or, still more
thrilling, a _pair_ of wily gray rats?
This is what I saw that same night when I'd motored back from Courtenaye
Abbey to Dawley St. Ann.
But let me begin with what happened first.
Jim wished to go with me, to be on hand in case of trouble. But the
reason why I'd hoped to find him at the Abbey was because we have a
secret room there which everyone knows (including tourists at a shilling
a head), and at least one more of which no outsiders have been told. The
latter might come in handy, and I begged Jim to "stand by," pending
developments.
I'd asked Terry to dine and had forgotten the invitation; consequently
he was at the inn in a worried state when I returned. He feared there
had been an accident, and had not known where to seek for my remains.
But in my private parlour over a hasty meal (I was starving!) I told him
the tale as I had told it to Jim.
Of course he behaved just as I'd expected--leaped to his feet and
proposed breaking into the wing of the garden court.
"They may kill her to-night!" he raged. "They'll be capable of anything
when they find the boy gone."
I'd hardly begun to point out that the girl had never been in less
danger, when someone tapped at the door. We both jumped at the sound,
but it was only a maid o
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