Hench nodded. "I intend to, and to see Madame Alpenny at the same time. Our conversation ended rather abruptly in the churchyard, and I want to make it quite clear to her that I suspect her of being the guilty person."
"Quite so. And if we succeed in frightening or bribing that little animal Spruce, you will have more grounds to present to her as to the truth of your accusation. We're travelling along a dark path, Owain, and the deuce knows what we will find at the end of it."
"A gaol for Madame Alpenny and a church for me and Gwen to be married in, Jim," said Hench promptly. "But it is a dark path as you say, and I have got on to it in the most unexpected manner. I wish I had called to see you before coming down here on that night. Had you been with me all this trouble would have been avoided."
Vane quite agreed. "In dealing with people like Madame Alpenny and Spruce it is always best to have a witness. That is why I think that the wisdom of seeing Spruce in company is apparent. Hullo! here he is. Doesn't he look like Solomon in all his glory, the slimy little reptile?"
It was indeed Spruce who had just clicked the gate and was sauntering up the short garden path. As the day was very warm, he was appropriately clothed in a suit of cream-coloured serge, with brown shoes and a straw hat. His whole appearance was spic and span, and he looked more like a cherub than ever with his pink and white face. No one would have thought that this innocent blue-eyed youth was such a despicable little scoundrel. His purple necktie, his purple scarf, his purple socks, and the purple band round his hat, were all in keeping with his quality of a Nut. He even wiped his heated face with a purple bordered pocket-handkerchief, and when he came into the room the same wafted a delicate perfume abroad which made Vane growl with disgust.
"What the dickens do you use scent for?" he asked irritably.
"Vane!" said the Nut, not very well pleased to come across one who knew all about his card-table delinquencies. "You here?"
"A pleasant surprise, isn't it, Spruce?" sneered the barrister, who ardently desired to kick the creature into a dusty heap on the road.
"Oh, I don't mind meeting old friends," said Spruce, recovering his impudence. "I'm not your friend, neither is Hench."
"Well,"---Spruce shrugged his elegant shoulders, "let us say old schoolfellows."