"I'll go. I can't subject you to this sort of thing," said Beaumanoir, reaching for the new hat which he had purchased after his "accident."
But Forsyth pushed him back into his chair.
"A duke isn't necessarily a fool," he said, roughly. "What you want most is a good sleep, and you shall have it—here in these rooms. Mr. Marker can't know that you are here, or he wouldn't have come to the door with that bogus yarn. Also, he is evidently not satisfied that you are not here, or he would have gone away. It remains to throw dust in his eyes and fool him a bit. Lord! how I wish my uncle, General Sadgrove, was with us!"
"He seemed to me a trifle dull," remarked the Duke, inconsequently.
Forsyth made allowances, and did not answer.
"See here," he said, after a minute's reflection. "This is the plan to throw the spy off the scent. It's nine o'clock—just the hour when it would be quite natural for a bachelor to go to his club. I will stroll round to Northumberland Avenue, and drop into the Constitutional for an hour. In the meanwhile, do you stay here and lie low behind locked doors, and with gas turned down. That rascal will almost certainly retire to his employers baffled, for he would not think that I should go out and leave you alone."
"That sounds promising," Beaumanoir assented. "But don't stay a moment longer than the hour, Alec. I don't think I could stand it."
Forsyth reassured him, and having slipped into evening clothes and donned a light overcoat, he issued his final instructions. It was beginning to be natural to him now to take the lead, after that glimpse of the lurking figure in the light of the street-lamp. Beaumanoir was to lock and bolt himself in, and only open on hearing the password "Rat."
These matters arranged, Forsyth departed, and, after waiting until he heard the bolts shot, went down into the street, where the spy was still in evidence, prowling on the other side. He made no attempt to follow Forsyth, who, affecting not to notice him, walked rapidly the short distance to his club. There he remained in the smoking-room with what patience he could muster for the full hour, determined not to return till time enough had elapsed for Marker to come to the desired conclusion and act upon it.
It was half-past ten when Forsyth set out to retrace his steps to John Street, and almost as soon as he entered that deserted thoroughfare he saw that the watcher was no longer at his post. Eager to relieve Beaumanoir from his solitary state of siege, he made all haste to the house, and was passing quickly through the entry when he heard footsteps on the landing above. A gas-jet was kept burning over the closed door of the wine-merchant's office, for the benefit of the resident tenants on the upper floors, so that he had a clear view of the straight stone stairs. Before he reached the latter two men came into view, hurriedly descending, and talking together in muffled undertones—one a gaunt, hungry-looking individual in the garb of a clergyman; the other, burly and bull-necked, dressed in shabby tweeds and bowler hat.