A
note had just been handed in for Mr. Ransom; should they send it up?
Gerridge was at the 'phone.
"Instantly," he shouted down, "and be sure you hold the messenger. It may
be from your lady," he remarked to Mr. Ransom. "Stranger things than that
have happened."
Mr. Ransom reeled to the door, opened it and stood waiting. The two
detectives exchanged glances. What might not that note contain!
Mr. Ransom opened it in the hall. When he came back into the room, his
hand was shaking and his face looked drawn and pale. But he showed no
further disposition to go out. Instead, he sank into a chair, with a
motion of dismissal to the two detectives.
"Question the boy who brought this," said he. "It is from Mrs. Ransom;
written, as you see, at the St. Denis. She bids me farewell for a time,
but does not favor me with any explanations. She cannot do differently,
she says, and asks me to trust her and wait. Not very encouraging to
sleep on; but it's something. She has not entirely forsaken me."
Gerridge with a shrug turned sharply towards the door. "I take it that
you wouldn't object to knowing all the messenger can tell you?"
"No, no. Question him. Find out whether she gave this to him with her own
hand."
Gerridge obeyed this injunction, but was told in reply that the note had
been given him to deliver by a clerk in the hotel lobby.
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