Heedless of his own safety, and the use that might be made of the knowledge, he told George all, How the burglary had been planned; how it was George had been suspected; how the cheques had been forged by Smith and Co.; and how the evidence had been built up in order to secure the conviction of an innocent man.
George was for dragging him away there and then to tell his story; but Heckett soon showed him what folly that would be. He himself dare not appear. He could not face the police, he said, for reasons; and, besides, to exculpate George he would have to accuse himself.
‘You bide a bit, governor, and you’ll see it’ll all come right; but it’s Marston as must do you justice, not me.’
‘Where is he?’ asked George.
‘I don’t know,’ answered Heckett. ‘I saw him last night for the first time for five years. I sent word to a man named Preene as I must see him, and Preene found him and sent him to me. I made the appointment in the park late, for I didn’t want to be seen by too many people, for I didn’t know what cursed game he might be up to. Then we had a row, and he tried to murder me, the blackguard!’
‘It might have been an accident,’ suggested George.
‘No, it was my life against his, and he knew it. I knew too much, and he feared as I should peach, and so he thought to settle me that way. You saved me, and it’s the rummest thing as ever was. One ‘ud think it was to be.’
At last George yielded to Heckett’s solicitation to let him go his own way to work. So far he was already benefited by the acquaintance. The house was Heckett’s. For reasons of his own he kept it to himself entirely, and there George and Bess could remain for a while safe from pursuit.
Safe until Heckett’s great scheme of vengeance was ripe, and then the old man swore to George he should stand boldly before the world and unmask the author of all his misery and sufferings.