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    brusquely. "I need as
    much information as I can get." "What sort of information do you expect to find in a sketchbook
    full of pictures of nude statuary?" Baxter demanded. "Who can say?" She whirled about and marched
    determinedly past him. "Come. We still have the downstairs rooms left to search. "
    Baxter swore softly and started to follow her. But curiosity and an uneasy stirring at the back of his neck
    caused him to hesi tate.
    He went back to the window, moved the curtain aside an in(_h
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    and looked down into the street. The view from this bed or so, chamber was similar to that of the first room he and Charlotte had searched.
    The fog had thickened. The gas lamp across the way was only a
    pinpoint of glare now. It did nothing to illuminate the scene. Bax ter waited for a long moment, searching for shadows amid the shadows, but he could not detect any
    movement. "Come along, Mr. St. Ives,"Charlotte called softly from the hall. "We must hurry."
    Baxter released the curtain and turned toward the door. He had
    seen no evidence of anyone lurking in the fog but for some reason he
    did not feel any sense of relief.
    He followedCharlotte downstairs. A short time later, he closed the last drawer in a desk and pulled his
    watch from his waistcoat pocket. "We must be off, Miss Arkendale. " "Just a few more
    minutes."Charlotte stood on tiptoe to replace some volumes she had removed from a bookshelf. "I am
    almost finished."
    11 We cannot linger any longer." Baxter picked up the lantern. She scanned the bookshelves with a
    quick, anxious eye. "But what if we have overlooked something of importance?" "You do not even know
    what you are searching for, so how will
    you know if you have overlooked anything?" He took her arm and
    led her swiftly toward the hall. "Move, Miss Arkendale."
    She glanced at him with sudden alarm. "Is there something wrong, sir?" "Need you ask?" He drew her
    down the stairs toward the kitchen. "It is past midnight and we are entertaining ourselves by searching the
    house of a lady who was recently murdered. You are
    even now preparing to take an item that once belonged to the previous occupant of these premises.
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    Many people might well feet that there is some cause for concern in this situation."
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    Amanda Quick
    "There is no call for sarcasm, sit. When I asked if there was
    something wrong, I meant something other than your earlier fears concerning our project. You seem
    more uneasy of a sudden."
    He glanced at her, startled by her perceptiveness. She was right. He had been growing increasingly
    restless and ill at ease ever since
    he had spotted the man in the shadows across the street.
    It had been a long time since he had experienced this particular very unpleasant, very cold frisson. Three
    years, to be precise.
    He was a man of science and as such he refused to label the feeling as a premonition. But the last time
    the sensation had struck had been memorable, to say the least. He had the scars to prove how close he
    had come to getting himself killed. "Be careful, sit, or we shall both trip on these stairs,"Charlotte
    whispered. "It will be difficult to get out of here if we are sporting broken legs. " "We're almost back to
    the kitchen," Baxter said as they went past the housekeeper's room. "I'm going to put out the lantern
    now.
    We will be nearly blind until we get back outside. Do not let go of
    my arm. "Why don't we wait until we are back on the street before we
    put out the lantern?" "Because I don't want to take the chance of having anyone
    notice our departure." "But no one will be able to see us in the fog,"Charlotte protested.
    "The glow of the lantern will be visible, even if our faces are
    not. Are you ready?"
    She gave him an odd, searching look. He thought she was going to continue to argue about the lantern.
    But something she must have