"But won't you stay and take a glass with us?" demanded Jeffreys.
"Not to night—not to night," was the answer. "I took something short at the bar as I passed by; but to-morrow night, my friends—to-morrow night," he exclaimed emphatically, "you shall find a good supper ready for you in Earl Street when you come, and a drop of the right sort."
"So much the better," said Jeffreys: "I like a good supper. But what's your hurry at present, Mr. Bones?"
"To tell you the truth, my dear boy," answered the old man, "I have got three friends waiting for me at a ken in Mitchell Street; and I promised not to keep them longer than I could help. So you must excuse me on this occasion; and, therefore, good bye."
Old Death shook hands with the three men, and took his departure—chuckling to himself at the idea of having secured the services of Jeffreys' friends at so cheap a rate, inasmuch as he would cheerfully have given them, griping and avaricious as he was, three or four times the sum stipulated in order to secure their services in the scheme of carrying out his atrocious plans of vengeance.
But for once, Old Death! the laugh was against yourself—as you speedily discovered to your cost!
We must not however anticipate.
The moment the old man had left the room, Wilton, Harding, and Jeffreys exchanged glances of satisfaction and triumph.
"Bunce, Tidmarsh, and Bunce's wife are all three at the flash house in Mitchell Street—that is quite clear," said Jeffreys.