"I changed my mind and swore to undo what I'd done. There's naught for me in that, my lad, and plenty to go agen me."
After a little he pushed his chair back.
"The time's not up," he said. "I've made short work of it. Pick up thy traps and we'll go over th' place together and see that it's safe."
He led the way, carrying the lantern, and Murdoch followed him. They went from one end of the place to the other and found all quiet; the bars of a small lower window had been filed and wrenched out of place, Mr. Reddy and his friends having made their entrance through it.
"They've been on the lookout many a night before they made up their minds," said Haworth. "And they chose the right place to try."
Afterward they went out together, locking the door and the iron gates behind them, and went down in company to the dark little station with its dim, twinkling lights.
Naturally they did not talk very freely. Now and then there was a blank silence of many minutes between them.
But at last the train thundered its way in and stopped, and there was a feeble bustle to and fro among the sleepy officials and an opening and shutting and locking of doors.
When Murdoch got into his empty compartment, Haworth stood at its step. At the very last he spoke in a strange hurry:
"When you come back," he said, "when you come back—perhaps——"