And Mr. Candover threw at the young man a piercing look.
“Yes. I told her she was silly and ungrateful.”
“Where is she?”
“I’ve sent her to see my solicitor. A most unpleasant thing happened here last night. Two sham detectives came with a pretended warrant for her arrest.”
“You don’t say so!”
Gerard was sitting with his face to the light, while Mr. Candover was in shadow. The elder man, therefore, had the advantage, in that he read the face of the younger like a book, while Gerard was not even aware of the curious and furtive movements by which his visitor had taken something out of one of his pockets and was holding it against his breast, just covered by his overcoat.
But Gerard, feeling uneasy that his own expression had betrayed him, and that the red blood was rushing into his face, looked down at the fender, and as he did so, perceived that the poker was missing.
At once suspecting something, he looked up and round the room, believing that his cousin Geoffrey was in hiding somewhere.
As he turned his head, he saw a sudden movement on the part of Mr. Candover, and then, almost at the same moment, there was a crash, a thud, and some one burst out of the cupboard close to the visitor’s chair; the next moment Mr. Candover was lying on the floor, stunned and motionless, with a great wound in his head, from which the blood was flowing, while Geoffrey, flushed and excited, was standing over him with his own weapon, the poker, bent and stained, in his right hand, and in his left the revolver which he had wrenched from Mr. Candover’s hand.
“I’ve settled him, I think!” said Geoffrey hoarsely, as he bent over the motionless body of the adventurer.