“Exactly so. What such men call their honour. Armstrong will evade me somehow, and go off to Belgium, I am sure; and if he does, he is so careless of his own life now, in his despair, misery, and degradation, that he will never come back alive.”
“Pish!”
“It is a fact, sir. I have heard that Dellatoria is deadly with sword or pistol, and he has been out more than once before—Good heavens, Miss Thorpe! are you there?”
“Yes,” said Cornel slowly, as she came forward from the door leading into an inner room. “I have heard every word.”
Chapter Twenty Seven.
A Potent Drug.
What to do? Leronde a prisoner; Pacey threatening legal steps. He must go somehow. The only way open appeared to be this; he must leave London at once, telegraphing to the Conte that he had gone on, and would meet him and his friends at the principal hotel in Ostend.
Armstrong, after much mental struggling, had come to this decision, when there was a knock at the door.