Darche nodded to Vanbrugh, who somewhat reluctantly followed him to the other end of the room.
"I say," he began in a tone not to be overheard by the detectives. "Can you not give me another chance?"
"What sort of chance?" replied Vanbrugh, raising his eyebrows.
"If I could get through that door," said John looking over Vanbrugh's shoulder, "I could get away. I know the house and they do not. Presently, when my father comes, if you could create some sort of confusion for a moment, I could slip out. They will never catch me. There is an Italian sailing vessel just clearing. I have had exact information. If I can get through that door I can be in the Sixth Avenue Elevated in three minutes and out of New York Harbour in an hour."
Vanbrugh had no intention of being a party to the escape. He met Darche's eyes coldly as he answered.
"No, I will not do it. I have defended you in open court, but I am not going to help you evade the law."
"Do not be too hard, Vanbrugh," said Darche, in a tone of entreaty. "Things are not half so bad as they are made out."
"If that is true, I am sorry. But you have had a perfectly fair trial."
"Will you not help me get away?" Darche urged knowing that this was his last chance.
"No."