“I’ve packed up my bag, and I’m ready. Get a few things together, and let’s go at once.”
“Go—with you?”
“Yes. Look sharp. Every minute now is worth an hour.”
Go with Pradelle! the man who had been his evil genius ever since they had first met. A feeling of revulsion, such as he had never felt before, came over Harry Vine, and with a voice full of repressed rage he cried:—
“I’d sooner give myself up to the police.”
“Don’t be a fool. I tell you to come at once. It’s now half-past two. Plenty of time.”
“Then in Heaven’s name go!” said Harry; “and never let me see your face again.”
“You’ll talk differently to-morrow. Will you; once more?”
“No.”
“Then I’m off. What do you mean to do?”