“Dick! Take care of me!” she cried, and ran to him, and put her face against his arm. The two men looked at each other for a moment.
Aidee said, “I'm answered.”
“I think you gave me a close call,” said Hennion, and drew Camilla past him into the passage, and followed her a few steps. Then he turned back, thinking:
“A fanatic is a term that mostly defines the definer, instead of the person meant to be defined. Sometimes it defines the man who uses it, as dense.”
At any rate Aidee was a force and had a direction, and force ought not to be wasted that way, for the credit of dynamics. So Hennion justified himself, and then confused his motive by thinking, “It's hardly a square game besides.” He stepped from the door into the dim Hall again, and said slowly:
“By the way, I saw Hicks last one night, some two weeks ago, and he told me who he was. He intended, I believe, to leave a message for you. Maybe he mentioned it to you. I think he told no one else who he was.”
Hennion paused. Aidee made no motion nor sound, but stood stiffly resistant.
“Well, you see, this morning, Jimmy Shays, the shoemaker, brought me that chisel. It seems Hicks used it last on Coglan, and then left it behind him, which was rather careless. Well, I knew the tool. The fact is, it was mine. Strikes me you might as well have gone somewhere else for your hardware.”
Still no sound.
“However, being mine, I took the liberty of pitching it into the river, where it really belonged, and swore Jimmy into a state of collapsed secrecy. Consequently, I'm in collusion. Consequently, I'm mentioning this to you in order to clean up the ground between us. It makes no great difference. That's all right. I only wanted to point out that you're clear of the mess. Now, there's a job for you in Port Argent. I think you can fill the place rather better—better than anyone else. Will you stay?”