"Mr. Carrington," he said, "I see that it is no use for me to withhold anything from you. You have been too sharp for me. What if I were to tell you that my secret has nothing whatever to do with your father or the strange attempts to murder him in cold blood, and that it is only by unfortunate circumstances I come to be suspected by you of connection with the plot against the Squire?"
"I shouldn't believe it," replied Laurence, frankly and deliberately; "however, I pray you to tell me your story. Do not forget, by the way, that you have confessed to telling a pack of lies on different occasions before now—about the Persian cat and the whip, the lunatic in the cellar, your invalid Major, and so on. By the way, let me advise you, if you wish to keep your secret from me, not to allow the creature imprisoned downstairs to shriek while I am in the house."
So great was the effect of these words on Doctor Meadows that at first Lena feared he was going to faint. He sank down into his chair, sweat standing out on his forehead; then he sprang up and darted towards Laurence as though about to attack him with his fists.
"Good God!" he cried. "How much do you know? Are you bent on ruining me? Tell me, quickly, exactly, how much you know?"
Laurence was more than astounded at this outburst. Acting on a suggestion of Lena, he had sprung upon the other a remark about the creature whom he had seen in the barn, and who, according to Miss Scott's mode of accounting for the various mysterious circumstances of the case, was being held in restraint by the inhabitants of Durley Dene. That the chance shot had gone home was surely proved by the excited behaviour of Doctor Meadows.
For a moment Laurence hesitated. Should he play a game of "bluff" and pretend that he knew all? He felt inclined to do this, but reflected that he might be placing Lena in a position of danger were he to do so. For, once Meadows believed his closely guarded secret was known, what steps might not he take to compel those who had learned that secret to keep silence? Consequently, he replied, "That is surely my own business?"
But Doctor Meadows was not satisfied.
"That's no answer," he cried. "I must have an answer. How much do you know? Tell me!"
"All I know is," responded Laurence, "that one of the members of your household is moving heaven and earth to do away with my unhappy father, and I shrewdly suspect which of you it is. I know better than to believe that you and your servant alone occupy this house of dark deeds."
"There you are, bringing up that absurd notion that I (or, in your own words, one of my household) am the author of the attempts on your father's life. If you won't take my word for it that no one living in this house is in any way responsible for the Squire's terrible position, will it satisfy you if I swear upon the Book that such is the case?"