Dance to Your Daddy

gathering at Galliard Hall. He would have realised that those were the names on envelopes which must have disappeared.'

'I agree, and that raises an interesting point which I should like to have cleared up. We have enough to do without having minor mysteries cluttering up our path.'

'Do I go with you to Galliard Hall?'

'I see no reason why not, and I shall be glad of a verbatim report of what Luke says in answer to my questions.'

'The only thing is, won't he turn rather coy at the sight of a shorthand writer with a notebook?'

'That we shall need to find out. My impression is that the man, in this particular instance, can have nothing to hide, or he would not have spoken out as he did in the presence of Amabel and Violet.'

'By the way, do you attach any importance to the fact that none of the servants heard that pot-shot which somebody took at you through the squint in your bedroom wall?'

'As George did not hear it, any more than did the others, I attach no importance whatever to the fact. The Hall is solidly built, my room was on the first floor, and the servants sleep at the top of the house and in another wing.'

'Oh, well, that's that, then. I suppose you'll have to let Romilly (I still call him that) know that you want to talk to Luke?'

'I can hardly do anything else, but I cannot think that he will raise the slightest objection. Why should he? He knows that Luke will say nothing to his disadvantage. The man, although surly, is faithful. In fact, I want to talk to Romilly himself before I tackle Luke.'

(2)

Dame Beatrice had not announced their coming, but it came as somewhat of a surprise to find Galliard Hall deserted except for a caretaker, his wife and his two daughters. The latter turned out to be Amabel and Violet, who received Dame Beatrice and Laura with acclamation and carried them off for a cup of tea in the kitchen.

They were informed that Romilly, whom the servants still referred to as Mr Lestrange, since they had not been told his real name, had left Galliard Hall and did not propose to return. As the rent had been paid in advance and the maids had been given a month's wages in lieu of notice, nobody appeared to object to his sudden departure, and he had left a forwarding address.

'Not sorry, us beant, to see the back of hem and Messus Judeth,' Amabel confided to Dame Beatrice, 'what weth the police and all. And as for that there old Luke, fair gev ee the creeps, he ded.'

As a matter of fact, it was Luke I came to see,' said Dame Beatrice, seizing upon the opening, 'but I daresay you and Violet will do just as well.'

'About they envitation letters.'

'Yes.'

'Oi dedd'n ought to have let on to Mess Corenna. Oi know that. But you know how 'tes. Mouth opens and sommat comes out as you never entended.'

Dame Beatrice, whose own beaky little mouth did not play her this disconcerting trick, responded sympathetically and then added:

'But that's all over now, and no harm done, as I told you. What exactly did Luke say about the letters? Can you remember?'

Violet and Amabel could. They had the unspoilt verbal memories of those who have never had occasion for taking written notes to aid their natural faculties. Corroborating one another without difficulty, they told the artless but highly important story.

'Luke, he blamed us, you see, for tamperen, which us surely never ded. 'Oi counted they letters as they laid there on hall table,' he says to we. 'What have you two gals been a-playen at? Report ee to Mester, Oi well,' he says, 'ef they letters ant put roight back be the toim Oi goes down to the postbox to catch the post,' he says.'

'What did he mean, do you suppose?'

'Oh, he went all on about et, he ded. 'There be two on 'em messen,' he says. 'Oi counted 'em careful as Oi laid 'em down. Eight there was, and sex there es,' he says. 'Who's been playen the fool, then?' he says.'

'He couldn't have made a mistake in his counting, I suppose?' suggested Laura.

'Hem? He used to fenger the letters loike as ef he couldn't hardly bear not to tear 'em open and read 'em. Oh, no, he wouldn't make no mestake, not old Luke wouldn't. And the job us had to convence un, then, ee'd never believe. Good as told us we'd penched 'em to foind out whether there was postal orders ensoide, ef ever you heard the loike!'

'Do you know whether he reported to Mr Romilly that two of the letters were missing?' Dame Beatrice enquired.

'For certain sure he ded not,' said Violet. 'Hem put hesself in the wrong? Not old Luke, no fear! What he ded say to us, when Mr Romelly was belly-achen about getten no answer from two of his relations, was as how he dedden see how Mester Romelly could expect to get answers to letters that hadden never been sent.'

'Was he still of the opinion that you had impounded the missing letters?'

'Oh, no. Us swore our Bible oath, so then he says, 'Then et's that wecked Messus Trelby,' he says. 'Woulden put nothen past her, I woulden,' he says.'

'Did you agree with him, I wonder?' 1

'Could have been Messus Trelby or Messus Judeth, I suppose, or even Mester Romelly hesself, come to that, as took 'em off hall table.'

'Yes, I suppose it could,' Dame Beatrice agreed. 'Can you give me his present address?'