"Not the least little bit in the world, as you will find out to your cost, Mr. Jessel, if you don't answer my questions," replied Kenly readily. Then he added, "I know all about you, so I really think it will be best for you to meet me in a friendly way."
Cornelius remembered a dozen little schemes of his which had brought him in cash which would not bear the light of day, and his heart quailed. He never for a moment imagined that Kenly was merely bluffing. Still he made an effort in his own defence.
"You—you know nothing against me," he asserted. "I—I've never done anything wrong." His tone and manner gave the lie to his assertion, and Kenly began to feel on safe ground.
"You may not think so, but I'm quite sure a magistrate would not agree with you," said Kenly with conviction. "Still I don't suggest testing the matter if you will tell me what I want to know."
Cornelius saw no means of escape. He surrendered at discretion, and when the conference was ended the detective was in possession of the whole story of the shadow-man's connection with Guy Hora from the moment when he had been employed by "the Master" to watch over him until that day when Guy had suddenly paid him a month's wages and bidden him depart at once.
Long after the conference was ended the detective brooded over the information which had come into his possession. He could not understand it. Jessel was manifestly unaware of the identity of the man he called "The Master" with Lynton Hora. Nor could he suggest any reason why Guy should have so suddenly dispensed with his services. The detective did not enlighten Cornelius on the first point, nor did he suggest that the second fact might have been due to some discovery made by Guy that the casket containing the stolen miniature had been tampered with. Jessel had revealed everything, even the momentous discovery he had made, the discovery he had communicated to Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim.
Kenly tired of puzzling his brain after a while with theories. He made his way once more up to his bedroom and resumed the sleep from which he had been awakened.
CHAPTER XXV
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
A minute after Guy had peeped into her bedroom Myra awakened. Her sleep had been short and she awoke unrefreshed. She arose mechanically and was surprised that her maid was not there, that her bath was not ready. She looked at a clock and saw that the hour was not yet five. She lay down again upon her bed and watched the clouds chasing each other across the sky. She fell to counting them as they crossed her field of vision, bounded by the two sides of the window frame. In the first hour there were seventy-two, between six and seven, twenty-one, between seven and eight, only three. When the maid came at half past eight the sky had been untarnished for a whole half hour.
She told the girl to make the bath hot. The hot water was very comforting. She found a physical satisfaction in the caress of the warm water. As a child she had always delighted in her bath. She recalled her childish delight. Anything to keep thought at bay.