"Ah!" said Griffith; "I thought so. He is a liar, and a coward."
"I would not advise you to tell him so," said the other, maliciously: "he has killed his man in France. Spitted him like a lark."
Griffith replied by a smile of contempt.
"Where is the man?" said he, after a pause.
"How should I know?" asked Galton, innocently.
"Where did you leave him five minutes ago?"
Galton was dumbfoundered at this stroke; and could find nothing to say.
And now, as often happens, the matter took a turn not in the least anticipated by the conspirators. "You must come with me, sir, if you please," said Griffith, quietly: and he took Galton's arm.
"Oh, with all my heart," said the other; "but, Mr. Gaunt, do not you take these idle reports to heart. I never do. What the devil—where are you carrying me to? For Heaven's sake, let this foolish business go no farther."
For he found Griffith was taking him to the very room where Neville was.