“Look here, Pradelle, you’ve got those notes, and I tell you once more, you have to give them up or it’s a case of police.”
He had been moving towards the door, which he unfastened and threw open.
“I’m here, Louie,” he said.
“Quick, dear! A message from papa. We are to go to Mr Van Heldre’s at once.”
“Van Heldre’s?” faltered Harry, whose legs seemed to give way beneath him.
“Yes, dear; a policeman brought the message.”
“A policeman?”
“Something is wrong. No, no, don’t turn like that. It is not father, but Mr Van Heldre, so the man said. I think it is a fall.”
Harry Vine’s breath came thick and short. What should he do? Fly at once? No; that meant being taken and brought ignominiously back.
“Don’t hesitate, dear,” said Louise; “pray come quickly.”