But at this moment steps were heard slowly approaching, and Hermione uttered an inarticulate cry, then spoke in an agonised whisper: "Arthur!"
Pallid of cheek and drooping of head Spike stood in the doorway, his shabby, threadbare clothes dusty and travel-stained, his slender shape encircled by the Spider's long arm. At Hermione's cry he lifted his head and looked up yearningly, his sensitive mouth quivered, his long-lashed eyes swam in sudden tears, he strove to speak but choked instead; then Ravenslee's calm, pleasant voice broke the painful silence.
"Old Un," said he, rising, "I understand you are fond of jam—well, from now on you shall bathe in it if you wish."
"Spoke like a true sport, Guv!"
"Why, you see, you have surely done me a very great service."
"Meanin' because I found ye th' murderer."
"Murderer?" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring.
"Why, yes—there 'e is!" and the old man pointed a long finger at the shrinking Spike.
"Old Un," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "don't joke with me—"
"I—I ain't jokin', Guv," cried the Old Un, rising. "Why—oh, Lorgorramighty, you don't mean t' say as this ain't 'im? Why, 'e 's confessed, Guv; I 'eard 'im!"