Klutz pressed his hands together, and looked round again for the train.
"Do you know what will certainly happen if you try to be generous and shield him? He'll say you did it, and so get rid of you and hush up the affair with Miss Estcourt. I can see by your face you know who did it. Everyone is saying it is Lohm."
"But why? Why should he? Why should he burn his own——" stammered Klutz, in dreadful agitation.
"Why? Because they were in ruins, and well insured. Because he had no money for new ones; and because now the insurance company will give him the money. The thing is so plain—I am so convinced that he did it——"
They heard the train coming. Klutz stooped down quickly and clutched his bag. "No, no," said Dellwig, catching his arm and gripping it tight, "I shall not let you go till you say what you know. You or Lohm to be punished—which do you prefer?"
Klutz gave Dellwig a despairing, hunted look. "He—he——" he began, struggling to get the words over his dry lips.
"He did it? You know it? You saw it?"
"Yes, yes, I saw it—I saw him——"
Klutz burst into a wild fit of sobbing.
"Armer Junge," cried Dellwig very loud, patting his back very hard. "It is indeed terrible—one's father so ill—on his death-bed—and such a long journey of suspense before you——"