It was nearly midnight when a taxi hummed up to the flaring lamp-post before the house, and stopped to discharge its occupant. Mordaunt heard the vehicle, but his eyes were closed and he did not trouble to open them. He had laid aside his pipe, and actually seemed to be on the verge of dozing at last. The window-curtain screened him from the view of any in the street, and it did not occur to him that the new arrival could be in any way connected with himself.
It was, therefore, with a hint of surprise that he turned his head at the opening of the door.
"Mr. Wyndham to see you, sir," said Holmes. "Says it's very particular, sir."
"Who? Oh, all right. Show him in." A bored note sounded in Mordaunt's voice. "And you needn't sit up, Holmes. I'll let him out," he added.
"Very good, sir," said Holmes, without enthusiasm. He never liked to retire before his master.
Mordaunt rose with a faint touch of impatience. He expected to see Max, and wondered that the news of his arrival in town had reached him so quickly. But it was Rupert who entered, and turned to satisfy himself that the door was shut before he advanced to greet his brother-in-law.
Mordaunt stood by the window and watched the precaution with a certain grim curiosity. He fancied he could guess the reason of this midnight visitation, but as the boy came towards him and halted in the full light he saw that he was mistaken. There was no indignant questioning visible on Rupert's face. It looked only grey and haggard and desperate.
"Look here," he said, speaking jerkily, as if it were only by a series of tense efforts that he spoke at all. "I've come to tell you something. I don't know how you'll take it. And I may as well admit—that I'm horribly afraid. Do you mind if I have a drink—just to help me through?"
Mordaunt closed the window, and came quietly forward. Just for a moment he fancied that Rupert had already fortified himself in the manner indicated for the ordeal of meeting him, and then again he realized that he was mistaken. The eyes that looked into his were perfectly sane, but they held an almost childlike appeal that made his heart contract suddenly. He bit his lip savagely. Why on earth couldn't the fellow have left him alone for this one night at least?
He forced himself to be temperate, but there was no warmth in his tone as he said, "I've no objection to your having a drink if you want it. I suppose you've got into a scrape again, and want me to help you out?"