"Pshaw!" said Rupert, contemptuously. "What is the use of your talking, Carrington? The game's up. We have got you down here to have you arrested."
"You can't arrest me," said the barrister, with an air of bravado. "I shall go at once to Tarhaven and give information against Mallien."
Rupert got between the barrister and the door toward which he was retreating swiftly. "Stop where you are," he commanded. "There will be no need for you to go to Tarhaven. In an hour Inspector Lawson will be here, and then, if you dare, you can lay an information against Mallien."
"Oh!" Carrington winced and grew very white. "This is a trap."
"It is," said Mallien, with malignant satisfaction, "and I have lured you into it. You accuse me, do you? Ha! We'll see what you'll say when the handcuffs are on your wrists."
"Hendle,"--Carrington turned to his former friend with a cry, half of rage and half of fear--"will you stand by and hear this said of me?"
"Why should I interfere?" said Hendle stolidly. "You are only reaping as you have sown. To get money you were prepared to accuse me as you have accused Mallien. And all the time you are the criminal, as we now know."
"I am not!" shouted the miserable man, trembling. "You can't prove that I did the deed."
"I can prove that you came down to Barship on that night," said Tollart.
"And who will take the word of a drunkard?"