"Yes; if he had interfered with me I believe I would, but he didn't. I never thought any more about him till I saw the account of the affair in the papers."
"You did go back to London, then?"
"Yes; you got the letter I wrote you from the Docks?"
"I did; but a day or two afterwards I saw you on the platform at Southampton Station. Don't deny it, Jabez; I know it was you!"
"Why should I deny it? As a matter of fact, I missed the boat I intended working my way out in. She swung out on the early morning tide, after they had told me she wouldn't be leaving till the evening. So I got back to Southampton as sharp as I could, and booked a steerage berth on one of the Union boats. But about the murder of that old man, Miriam, I swear to you I know absolutely nothing."
"I believe you, Jabez. Nevertheless, in the face of the evidence, and your—your past history, it might go badly with you for all that if they were to catch you. Oh dear, I am perfectly terrified when I think of it! Good Heavens, what's that? I'm so nervous I can hardly contain myself this morning." They could hear the front door open and someone enter the hall.
"Quick, it's Gerald, I expect—my husband. What is it you call yourself?—Harry Maxwell? Very well, remember we are old friends."
He nodded, and took a seat with his back to the window. The door opened to admit not Gerald Arkel but Major Dundas. Smart and well-groomed as ever, he came forward and shook Miriam by the hand.
"My wife and I are up in town for a few days with Dicky," he said, "so I just dropped in to ask you when she might bring the boy round, Mrs. Arkel; he is so anxious to see you again."
"Dear little fellow—I shall love to see him. But let me introduce Mr. Maxwell—my friend, Major Dundas."