David suggested that the law took a prejudiced view of that kind of thing, and that it would be a pity to hang anyone for such a creature as Reginald Henson.
"Our man is all right?" he asked.
"As a trivet," said Williams. "Sleeping like a baby; he is in my own bed over the stable. I'll show you into the harness-room, where Miss Enid's waiting for you, sir, and then I'll go and see as Henson don't come prowling about. Not as he's likely to, considering the clump on the side of the head you gave him. I take it kind of Providence to let me see that!"
Williams hobbled away, chuckling to himself and followed by David. There was a feeble oil-lamp in the harness-room. Enid was waiting there anxiously.
"So you have put Henson out of the way for a time," she said. "He passed me just now using awful language, and wondering how it had all come about. Wasn't it a strange thing that Van Sneck should come here?"
"Not very," David said. "He is evidently looking for his master, Reginald Henson. I have not the slightest doubt that he has been here many times before. Williams says he is asleep. Pity to wake him just yet, don't you think?"
"Perhaps it is. But I am horribly afraid of our dear friend Reginald, all the same."
"Our dear Reginald will not trouble us just yet. He came down as far as
London with Bell. Of course he had heard the news of Van Sneck's flight.
Was he disturbed?"
"I have never seen him in such a passion before, Mr. Steel. And not only was he in a passion, but he was horribly afraid about something. And he has made a discovery."
"He hasn't found out that your sister—"