“Britton“ he said at length, while a shudder for one instant convulsed his frame, “have you ever passed through that door since—since—”
“Since the night of the storm?” said Britton. “Yes, I have passed through it.”
“You are bold.”
“I had a motive, and since your candour has been such as to tell me of that little contrivance of yours about the packet you have left with such urgent directions, I will tell you my motive, and ha! Ha! We—we—shall better understand our relative situations.”
“What was the motive?”
“Can you form no guess?”
“I cannot; how—how should I Britton?”
“Did you lose nothing, ten years since?”
“Yes—yes—I did lose a knife—but not here—not here!”
“You did lose it here.”