"Very well," said I. "On those conditions I will help you. Where were you when I came in?"
"In the cellar; it's safer and also more comfortable than under the floor."
"Then I advise you to go back there, for I'm off. If I'm found here we shall be run in together."
He detained me, however, a moment more. It was to put a letter in my hand, a stout missive addressed in pencil to myself.
"You see I've been busy while you were gone," he said, in a tone quite shy for him. "Read that after your breakfast. It may make you think less ill of me. And, for the love of Heaven, deliver the enclosures!"
I undertook to do so; my interest, however, was as yet confined to the outer envelope, a clean piece of stationery, never used before.
"Upon my word," said I, "you have come prepared. No doubt you have provisions too?"
Deedes produced a packet and a flask. "Sandwiches and whisky," said he, "in case of need!"
I looked hard at him; it may have been my imagination, but for once I thought he changed colour.