Dave Henderson caught the other's hand.
“Yes, but look here,” he said, a sudden huskiness in his voice, “I——”
“You want to thank me—eh?” said the old bomb king, shaking his head. “Well, my young friend, there will be time enough for that. You will see me again—eh? Yes! When old Nicolo sends for you, you will come. Until then—you will remember! Do not move from your room! Now, go!”
Teresa spoke from the doorway.
“Yes, hurry, please!” she said quietly. “The lane was empty a few minutes ago, but——” She shrugged her shoulders significantly.
Dave Henderson, with a final nod to the propped-up figure in the bed, turned and followed Teresa along the passage, and out into the porch. Here she bade him wait while she went out again into the lane; but in a minute more she called out to him in a whisper to join her.
They passed out of the lane, and into the cross street. A little ahead of them, Dave Henderson could see a small car, its hood up, standing by the curb.
She stopped suddenly.
“Emmanuel has seen me,” she said. “That is all that is necessary to identify you.” She held out her hand. “I—I hope you will get out of your danger safely.”
“If I do,” said Dave Henderson fervently, “I'll have you and your father to thank for it.”