Janet listened eagerly as Harry spoke of the inutility of their search, and then the poor girl shrank back; but attention was drawn from her by a sharp cry of pain from Canau.
“Shall I fetch a doctor?” said Harry earnestly.
“No, no; I shall be better—well directly. The pain is sometimes sharp. But ah, bah! it is nothing. I shall live—I shall be well soon. I do not trouble myself at all. But hark! Mon Dieu! listen! Is there fresh trouble in the house? They will not search again—I cannot have it! Monsieur, I am weak.”
Harry, as he started up, gazed curiously at the injured man, for there was a strange dread in his tones that again raised suspicion. But there was evidently something important on the wing. Amidst a good deal of noise, there arose the sound of voices in loud altercation; and as he opened the door D. Wragg could easily be heard as he exclaimed—
“Don’t you make no mistake now; I’m not going to have my place searched again; so now, then!”
“Ah-h-h! Ma foi!” ejaculated Canau, and a spasm sent its trace across his features, while Janet, wild-eyed and strained, held tightly by his hand.
“There is something coming now!” thought Harry, and his heart beat painfully as D. Wragg’s voice was again heard.
“Yes; he is here! And if he is here, what o’ that? Don’t you make no mistake. There ain’t no harm in his coming here if he likes, is there? No one ain’t a-going to burke him. I’ll fetch him down, for I ain’t going to have no more searchings in my house.”
“Searching! Ah! I cannot bear it!” groaned the Frenchman.
Directly after there was the thump, thump, of D. Wragg’s heavy boot on the stairs.