"Yes, sent them," she said again, emphatically. "Why do you suppose
they went to the hospital so early the next morning?"
"I supposed they had become suspicious of me."
"Nonsense! What possible reason could they have for becoming
suspicious of you. On the contrary, it was because they were _not_
suspicious of you, because they wished to please you, to air your room
for you; because, in a word, you asked them to go--they went after the
key to those padlocks on the window-shutters. Of course, Martigny had
it."
For a moment, I was too nonplused to speak; I could only stare at her.
Then I found my tongue.
"Well, I _was_ a fool, wasn't I?" I demanded bitterly. "To think that
I shouldn't have foreseen that! I was so worked up over my discovery
that night that I couldn't think of anything else. Of course, when
they asked for the key, the whole story came out."
"I shouldn't blame myself too severely," laughed Miss Kemball, as she
looked at my rueful countenance. "I myself think it's rather fortunate
that he's on the boat."
"Fortunate? You don't mean that!"
"Precisely that. Suppose the Jourdains hadn't gone to him; he'd have
left the hospital anyway in two or three days--he isn't the man to lie
inactive when he knew you were searching for the fugitives. He'd have
returned, then, to his apartment next to yours; your landlady would
have told him that you had sailed for Europe, and he had only to
examine this boat's passenger-list to discover your name.
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