"I was deceived by Mr. Beryl. He's older than I am. I am only a boy."
"You are old enough to be hanged, at all events."
"You said I wouldn't be, my lord."
"That depends upon my good word," said Conniston, bluffing; "and you won't have that unless you confess."
"Confess what, my lord?"
"All about this business connected with Beryl," put in Gore. "It was you who led me to the house in Crimea Square."
"I didn't—I didn't!" And then Jerry uttered a howl as Conniston's whip came across his back.
"Hold your tongue and answer."
"How can I hold my tongue and answer at the same time, my lord?"
Conniston took out his watch. "I'll give you two minutes to make up your mind to talk sense. You are clever enough when it suits you. If you won't speak, I'll thrash you thoroughly, and then take you up to be handed to the police."