"I do," said Foyle quietly.
"Without my knowledge?"
Heldon Foyle shook his head, and thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets faced the baronet squarely. "That's what I want to know. Was it without your knowledge, Sir Ralph?"
Fairfield met that searching gaze unflinchingly. There was a touch of hauteur in his tone when he replied, "Do you suggest that I am hiding him?"
Had Foyle not been sure of his facts the manner of the baronet might have convinced him that he was in error. As it was, he ignored the evasion. It was essential to know whether the fugitive had been supplied with any money and whether he had given any indication of his plans. "I feel quite certain that you have had a talk with him lately," he said. "I thought you were going to do what you could to help us clear up this mystery. Why deny a fact that is plain?"
Sir Ralph clenched his teeth. It was clear that Foyle was certain of his ground; that it was no use any longer trying to throw dust in his eyes. "Well?" he demanded icily. "I suppose I am not entirely a spy
at your disposal, Mr. Foyle. I am like most men, I have my limits. I prefer to remain master of my own actions."
"I should be the last to dispute it," said Foyle, with a slight bow, "or to take advantage of the good-nature that has led you to assist us hitherto. Of course you could not foresee that Grell would come to you, and you naturally do not want to take advantage of his confidence. But we already know of his visit, so there is no breach of trust there. All I ask is that you should simplify the matter by telling me what occurred at your interview. Perhaps you have forgotten, Sir Ralph, that there is a punishment for assisting a man to escape—by lending him money or otherwise. That is merely for information. It is not a threat."
"Thank you," said the other. "It would make no difference to me whether it was a threat or not." He remained in thought for a moment. The fact that Grell had entered the place and apparently got clear away had led him to believe that the police knew nothing of the visit, that the only risk of the interview being disclosed lay with Roberts. If the detectives had really been close on the heels of the fugitive, as Foyle said, it could do no harm to admit the truth. His promise to say nothing could hardly be considered to cover the contingency. "Has Roberts been talking to you?" he asked abruptly.
"Roberts?" repeated the superintendent, with a puzzled frown. "Oh, of course, he's your servant. I asked him one or two questions, but he didn't seem to understand me."