"The murder of your uncle?"
"Yes! When I came here last night, Spruce was waiting for me."
"Spruce!" echoed the other curiously. "That crawling little cheat. How did he find you out, Owain?"
"Madame Alpenny told him where I was, and Bottles told her, and Peter told his brother. That is how the screed runs."
"Why the deuce couldn't Peter keep his knowledge of your whereabouts to himself," growled the barrister. "We don't want Spruce here."
"Oh, Peter didn't think he was doing wrong in telling Bottles, as he knew how his brother was devoted to me. It is Bottles I blame in giving me away. I don't think he is so devoted to me as I thought. And I certainly don't want Spruce here, especially as he has come to blackmail me."
"What's that?" Vane sat up very straight.
"Listen!" and Hench related what had taken place in that very room on the previous night, so that the barrister was soon placed in possession of all facts connected with the accusation. Vane sat silent when his friend ended, digesting the uncomfortable knowledge.
"Little beast!" he said at length. "I knew that he was after no good in going to Bethnal Green."
"Oh, that was mere chance, Jim. But his cleverness led him to suspect what Madame Alpenny knew, and he watched her day and night until he wormed her secret out of her. Well, you have heard; what is your advice?"