Dentham was so excited with this idea that he walked up and down his chamber chuckling.
"I thought he was a forger or a robber—but he ain't. No!—he's a murderer, and that's worse nor either of the other two. I'll go to this young lady to-morrow, and I'll show her the walking-stick—that'll show Mr. Adrian Lancaster's been here, at all events, and if they search the house perhaps they'll find him, though I don't say," said Mr. Dentham sagaciously, "that he'll be alive. If I get any money out of this I'll chuck the old cove—this house gives me the horrors; I know he's got a Blue Beard's chamber somewhere—well, I'll go to-morrow—my information's worth a fiver at all events. I'll dare to ask the old 'un's leave to get away—he wouldn't give it to me if he know'd what I was up to."
The bell rang at this moment, and he was summoned to Adrian's presence.
"Bring me some wine," said Adrian, looking up from his book.
"Yes, sir," replied Dentham, and retreated. "Drinking, eh," he thought as he went to the pantry; "I wouldn't if I were you—you might let out something about that gentleman whose stick you collared—oh, he give it to you—yes, I daresay—my gracious, what a wicked old chap he is, to be sure."
When he had placed the wine on the table and poured out a glass for his master, he waited a moment, and then spoke.
"I beg pardon, sir, but might I ask leave to-morrow for a couple of hours?"
"What for?" asked his master abruptly.
"I've got to go into Town, sir—to see a doctor; I ain't well—perhaps you could do something, sir?"
"No; I don't practise medicine. Go into Town, if you like, but mind you're back again in two hours."