“It is time for us to go now,” said Erskine gloomily.
“Look in upon me at any time; you shall be welcome,” said Trefusis. “You need not stand upon any sort of ceremony.”
Then they parted; Sir Charles assuring Trefusis that he had never spent a more interesting morning, and shaking hands with him at considerable length three times. Erskine said little until he was in the Riverside Road with his friend, when he suddenly burst out:
“What the devil do you mean by drinking two tumblers of such staggering stuff at one o’clock in the day in the house of a dangerous man like that? I am very sorry I went into the fellow’s place. I had misgivings about it, and they have been fully borne out.”
“How so?” said Sir Charles, taken aback.
“He has overreached us. I was a deuced fool to sign that paper, and so were you. It was for that that he invited us.”
“Rubbish, my dear boy. It was not his paper, but Donovan Brown’s.”
“I doubt it. Most likely he talked Brown into signing it just as he talked us. I tell you his ways are all crooked, like his ideas. Did you hear how he lied about Miss Lindsay?”
“Oh, you were mistaken about that. He does not care two straws for her or for anyone.”
“Well, if you are satisfied, I am not. You would not be in such high spirits over it if you had taken as little wine as I.”