“Oh, Frank!” cried Inza, “you will be killed some time. I know you will!”
“My enemies have made so many failures that I am encouraged to think myself almost invulnerable.”
“You are brave and you are fortunate, but you cannot always escape. Some time they will get the best of you.”
“That will be when my ‘time’ has arrived. You see I have become a fatalist. I do not believe anybody will die till their ‘time’ comes.”
“It is very nice to believe that—if you can,” said the invalid; “but I cannot accept such a belief. What will you do about this dastardly attempt at murder?”
“I shall tell all I know to the police; but I doubt if they will be able to accomplish anything. In the dynamite outrages, years ago, they were quite impotent. It may be that those outrages are to be resumed. And it is possible that I have incurred the enmity of the scoundrels who are in the business by my discovery of the infernal machine in the House of Parliament.”
Neither Mr. Burrage nor Inza had heard of this, and so he told them all about it. Then the police came to investigate, and were told exactly what had happened.
Had it been in the United States, a dozen reporters would have been on hand by that time; but Frank saw no reporters for at least an hour.
Frank could not suspect ’Arry ’Awkins of being connected in any way with the person who threw the bomb, for the man from Deptford had been placed in deadly peril by the thing.
It seemed that Mr. ’Awkins had been badly frightened, and had improved the opportunity to get away without delay.