Violet Jacob > Flemington

BUSINESS 51
blankets,” said Logie, drawing out his watch.
“ That should make him safe.”
Meanwhile Flemington had reached his room
and was pulling his great package of spare can¬
vases from under his sombre four-poster. He
undid the straps which secured them and drew
from between two of them a long dark riding-
coat, thrusting back the bundle into its place. He
changed his clothes and threw those he had taken
off on a chair. Then he took the little locked box
he had saved so carefully from the catastrophe of
the previous night, and, standing on the bed, he
laid it on the top of the tester, which was near
enough to the ceiling to prevent any object placed
upon it from being seen. He gathered a couple
of cushions from a couch, and, beating them up,
arranged them between the bedclothes, patting
them into a human-looking shape. Though he
meant to lock his door and to keep the key in his
pocket during the absence he contemplated, and
though he had desired the servants not to disturb
him until an hour before breakfast, he had the
good habit of preparing for the worst.
He slipped out with the coat over his arm,
turned the key and walked softly but boldly
down into the hall. He paused outside the
dining-room, listening to the hum of the brothers’
voices, then disappeared down the back-stairs.
If he found the door into the stable-yard secured
he meant to call someone from the kitchen regions
to open it and to announce that he was going out
to look at his disabled horse. He would say that