He was on the point of disappearing into the inner room, when Max stopped him.
"Oh, but you can," said he. "I have something particular to say to you, and I can wait till you come back, if it's two o'clock, and I can bring in the supper myself."
Dudley frowned impatiently, and again he cast at Max the horrible, furtive look which had been his first greeting.
"That's impossible," said he, quickly. "I may have to go on to Liverpool myself. Good-night."
And he shut himself into the bedroom.
Max felt cold all over. After a few minutes' hesitation, he went out of the chambers, down the stairs and out of the house.
At the door a cab was waiting. The driver spoke to him the moment he stepped out on the pavement. Evidently he took him for Dudley, his late fare.
"The lady's got out an' gone off, sir. I hollered after her, but she wouldn't wait. Oh, beg pardon, sir," and the man touched his hat, perceiving his mistake; "I took you for the gentleman I brought here with the lady."
"Oh, he'll be down in a minute or two," answered Max.
And then he thought he would wait and see what new developments the disappearance of the lady would lead to. He was getting sick with alarm about his friend. These instances of the blood-stained clothes, the possible journey to Liverpool, and the flight of the mysterious lady, were so suspicious, taken in conjunction with each other, that Max found it impossible to rest until he knew more. He walked a little way along the pavement, and then returned slowly in the middle of the road. He had done this for the third time when Dudley dashed out of the house with rapid steps, and had reached the step of the hansom before he discovered that the vehicle was empty.