Joyce laughed at the joke. "I prefer London myself."
"That is a pity," said Herrick, "for I am returning to Saxham to-morrow, and I want you to come down for a few days next week."
"I shall be delighted," replied Robin at once. "I can put up at The Carr Arms. I do not know Marsh you know."
"I daresay when he meets you he will ask you to stay at 'The Pines,'" said Herrick, "but you will come down Robin? I have seen so little of you, and I do not want our friendship to end so abruptly."
"Certainly. I will come with pleasure," replied Joyce so warmly that Herrick's heart smote him for his treachery. But when he remembered how Joyce had deceived him, how he had led him to the very house in which to all appearance--he had committed a crime, the doctor's heart grew hard and he was quite prepared to play his part and trap this man. He was now beginning to regard Robin as a little reptile extremely dangerous who needed to be crushed.
"I shall come next week," said Joyce gaily, "and if Marsh likes me, he may as you say, ask me to 'The Pines.' You might come also Manuel."
"Perhaps, if I have a day to spare," said the Mexican. "I should like to see the place where my dear friend Carr died."
He glanced at Herrick as he spoke, but the doctor was not attending to him and did not see the look. Tea was being brought in, and Herrick wanted to get away at once. He felt that knowing what he did, he could never break bread with Robin again. He fervently hoped that the man was innocent, but things looked black.
"I must go now Robin," said Herrick hurriedly, "remember you _must_ come."
"I promise. Won't you have tea?"