“Go on.”
“And that there appears to be every probability of his success, luckily for him!”
“It is false—utterly false!” Annesley said, fiercely. “Lady Elaine hates the man, and I want you to protect her.”
“I hardly understand you.”
“It is plain enough. I will pay you to keep a man on the watch—to protect Lady Elaine against any of this villain’s schemes. Any unusual movement is to be promptly reported to me, as the man made certain threats yesterday which have made me uneasy.”
“I understand thoroughly, Sir Harold, and I will say this much, in confidence, that Viscount Henry Rivington is already under police surveillance. Upon two separate occasions have applications been made to the lord mayor for warrants for his apprehension. By arrangement they have not been executed, but his safety depends upon his obtaining the fortune left by the late Earl of Seabright. His creditors will not be hoodwinked. It is either the money, for value obtained in many cases under false pretenses, or his body.”
Sir Harold gave the detective a silent pressure of the hand, as he rose.
“There is no need for me to say more,” he observed, reaching for his hat; “I am now going to Bayswater, and any communication will reach me at the Victoria Hotel.”
The detective nodded, said “good-morning,” and Annesley hurried downstairs and into the streets, which were gradually awakening to the usual business of life.
“Nine o’clock,” he reflected. “Theresa will wonder what has become of me. But this disgraceful conduct of Margaret must be promptly punished. I will never forgive her—never.”