‘My good man,’ said Barndale, ‘you can’t arrest me if I pay the money.’
‘Come, come, come, sir,’ said the official, with calm superiority in his tone; ‘that’s all very well and very pretty, but it’s Mr. Leland’s affair that I want you for, sir.’
‘Mr. Leland’s affair?’ said Barndale.
‘That little attempted murder the night before last, that’s all. Now, take it quiet; don’t let’s have any nonsense, you know.’
The clean-shaven stranger’s lips pressed close together with a resolute look, and his hand came a little way out of the breast of his coat.
‘Will you have the goodness to tell me what you mean?’ asked Barndale, bewildered, and a little angry to find himself so.
‘Well, if you won’t know anything about it, Mr. James Leland was found yesterday in a house-boat at Thames Ditton, with a pistol bullet into him, and he ain’t expected to recover, and that’s my business along with you, and I’ll trouble you to come quiet.’
The tension on the official nerves made hash of the official’s English. Barndale smote the mantel-piece with his clenched hand.
‘Great God!’ he cried. ‘The Greek! Where is Mr. Leland?’ he asked the official eagerly.
‘In bed at the “Swan,” abeing doctored. That’s where he is,’ replied the official curtly. ‘Now, come along, and don’t let’s have no more palaver.’