"Is your master in?" I demanded.
"Who yo' mean—mah master?" he replied in surly tone.
"I wish to see Mr. Haredale or Captain Danby."
"No sich names hyah!"
"Well then, I want Mr. Trenchard."
"Who's yo' se'f to see Mas'r Trenchard?"
"I am an—acquaintance of his."
"Well, ah don' know yo' face, so ah guess dey's bof' out fo' you an' so's yo'se'f—an' can stay out, fo' shure." Having said which, the negro laughed shrilly, and I saw the flash of his teeth ere he departed.
Balked thus but determined as ever, I turned away and began to follow the wall, looking for a place where I might climb it by means of some tree or rise in the ground. And with every step the sudden conviction I had formed that Trenchard was Haredale grew stronger; and Haredale, as I knew, was but another name for that evil rogue whose name had once been Devereux.
I went slowly, scanning every yard of the wall for a likely place, now in brilliant moonlight, now in shadow, while stronger and stronger waxed my determination that, supposing Trenchard were Devereux indeed, I would this night rid the world of him once and for all.