She left the gardens for the shrubberies. And at twenty-five
minutes to three, she was seen by one of your gardeners, Featherstone,
in what was, of course, hiding, amongst the trees at the end of the
north shrubbery. What was she doing there, Miss Mallathorpe? She was
waiting!--waiting until a certain hoped-for accident happened--to me.
Then she would come out of her hiding-place in the hope of getting that
document from my pocket! Do you see how cleverly she'd laid her
plans--murderous plans?"
Nesta was making a great effort to be calm. She knew now that she was
face to face with some awful mystery which could only be solved by
patience and strenuous endeavour. She knew, too, that she must show no
sign of fear before this man!
"Will you finish your story, if you please?" she asked.
"In my own way--in my own time," answered Pratt. "I now come to--your
mother. On the Friday noon, the late Mr. Harper Mallathorpe went to
Barford to visit a friend--young Stemthwaite, at the Hollies. He was to
stay the night there, and was not expected home until Saturday evening.
He did stay the night, and remained in Barford until noon on Saturday;
but he--unexpectedly--returned to the house at half past two. And almost
as soon as he'd got in, he picked up a gun and strolled out--into the
gardens and the north shrubbery. And, as you know, he went to the
foot-bridge.
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