"I am coming now to the end of my story," Mrs Saxton continued, after
this interruption. "I was walking one day into Horsham, and was
accosted by a young man who seemed desirous of striking up an
acquaintance. I rebuffed him, of course, and learned afterwards that he
made similar advances to the young woman who was supposed to be my
fellow-servant. At once it struck me that he was spying upon us. He
lodged at a small inn a little distance away, and gave out that he was
an artist. I mentioned the matter to Stent, but he rather laughed at
the idea; told me I had got detectives on the brain. He was destitute
of nerves himself, and had an exaggerated belief in his own capacity to
outwit everybody.
"Pondering upon the means by which I could extricate my patient--if I
may call him so--from a position which I felt convinced was growing more
perilous, the idea of using this young man came into my mind. Day after
day I impressed upon Stent that my fears were well grounded, and that at
any moment he might be faced with discovery. At last I invented a story
that I had seen this man who called himself Franks standing outside the
house with another person, obviously a detective, and had heard the
latter say distinctly; `Smeaton himself thinks we have given them rope
enough.'
"You know the story of the removal in the dead of night?"
She addressed her question to Wingate, appreciating the fact that he
showed his hostility less plainly than did his sweetheart.