The young man pulled himself erect.
"In a sense I was," he said, with dignity, "in a sense I wasn't; and now I must be toddling."
T. B. saw the sudden suspicion that came to him. "What do you know about the barrage?" he asked abruptly.
The man started back, sobered.
"Nothing," he said harshly. "I know nothing. I know you, though, Mr. Bloomin' Smith, and you ain't goin' to pump me. Here, I'm going."
He pushed T. B. aside. Van Ingen would have stopped him but for a look from his companion.
"Let him go," he said. "I have a feeling that——"
The young man was crossing St. James's Street, and disappeared for a moment in the gloom between the street lamps. T. B. waited a time for him to reappear, but he did not come into sight.
"That's rum," murmured Van Ingen; "he couldn't have gone into Sir George's; his house is on the other side of the street—hello, there he is!"
A man appeared momentarily in the rays of the lamp they were watching, and walked rapidly away.