"It must be only a moment, then," he said. "I have no right to have stayed here so long. I ought to have been back in Oldborough hours ago. You must promise to be quiet and not speak a single word if I admit you into the sick room."
Beatrice gave the assurance and they crept into the bedroom silently together. Flower lay with his eyes wide open, gazing about the room in a strange, lack-lustre fashion. Evidently he had not the remotest notion where he was or what was taking place around him. He murmured from time to time a medley of things in which the shrewdness of a man and the innocence of a child were curiously mingled. Wilfrid seemed to hear sounds of some one moving in the dressing-room beyond, and he looked into the room, where he saw Cotter in the act of placing some papers in a desk. Flower's confidential clerk looked up guiltily as his glance met Wilfrid's eye.
"What are you doing here?" Wilfrid asked sternly. "Don't you know that nobody but the doctor and the nurse are allowed here? And why are you tampering with those papers?"
"I am not," Cotter stammered. "I swear I am not. I am only putting away a few documents which my master told me to fetch from the City this morning. I am very sorry, sir, but I won't come back again. Is he better?"
Wilfrid turned on his heel without reply. No sooner had Cotter left the dressing-room than Wilfrid was back in the bedroom intent on getting rid of Beatrice also. It was useless for the girl to stay, for she could do nothing except stand there with eyes full of tears of pity and sorrow. Wilfrid led her out to the landing.
"You must not come here again," he said. "I will leave directly the nurse arrives. I have to call upon a friend and then I must get back to Oldborough without delay."
"Is there any hope?" Beatrice asked.
"I cannot say," Wilfrid replied. "It may be days before we are sure of that, and whatever happens, remember that you are safe. These people who come and go in this mysterious fashion have no feeling against you. It is only your uncle who is the object of their vengeance."
"But, surely, the police ought to know," Beatrice protested.
"I am not sure of that," Wilfrid said. "If your uncle were well and we suggested calling the police, I am certain that he would oppose the idea strongly."