Sylvia, leaving the door of her bedroom ajar, went to the servants' quarters by a back staircase. There she found MacBain, the watchman, eating his supper.
"I don't feel as though I could sleep," she explained, "so I am going out into the park for a while. I'll unlatch one of the drawing-room windows and disconnect the alarm; and when I come in again I'll tell you."
"Very well, miss," said MacBain. "It's a fine night, and you'll take no harm."
"I'm not afraid of rabbits, if that is what you mean," she said lightly, for the very sound of the man's voice had dispelled vapors.
"Oh, there's more than rabbits in the park tonight, miss. Two policemen are stationed in the Quarry Wood."
"They don't know themselves, miss. The Inspector ordered it. I met them coming on duty at ten o'clock. They'll be relieved at four. They have instructions to allow no one to enter the wood. That's all they know."
"If I go there, then, shall I be locked up?"
"Not so bad as that, miss," smiled MacBain. "But I'd keep away from it if I was you. 'Let sleeping dogs lie' is a good motto."
"But these are not sleeping dogs. They're wide-awake policemen."
"Mebbe, miss. They have a soft job, I'm thinking. Of course----"
The man checked himself, but Sylvia guessed what was passing in his mind.
"You were going to say that the wretch who killed my uncle hid in that wood?" she prompted him.
"He is not there now. He must have run away while we were too terrified to take any steps to capture him. Who in the world could have wished to kill Mr. Fenley?"
"Ah, miss, there's no knowing. Those you'd least suspect are often the worst."
MacBain shook his head over this cryptic remark; he glanced at a clock. It was five minutes to twelve.
"It's rather late, miss," he hinted. Sylvia agreed with him, but she was young enough to be headstrong.
"I sha'n't remain out very long," she said. "I ought to feel tired, but I don't; and I hope the fresh air will make me sleepy."
To reach the drawing-room, she had to cross the hall. Its parquet floor creaked under her rapid tread. A single lamp among a cluster in the ceiling burned there all night, and she could not help giving one quick look at the oaken settle which stood under the cross gallery; she was glad when the drawing-room door closed behind her.