“Oh, indeed!” said Mr. Hammerton; “that was very kind of you, certainly. From whom did you receive your instructions?”
Paul did not reply; his pride was hurt, he had not expected such a reception as this.
“Suppose I inform Mr. Tallant how you have occupied yourself during these last few weeks?” said Mr. Hammerton; for his pride and dignity were hurt also, and he was offended at this interference with his liberty, in doubt for the moment whether Paul was a tool in more skilled hands.
“I shall watch no more, sir,” said Paul. “You may take your own course; I have done my duty. You know how to test the truth of what I have told you. Good-night, sir.”
Paul disappeared without another word, although Mr. Hammerton called after him. He felt miserably disappointed as he went home, and could not help feeling that there was something of the sneak in his composition, after all.
Why had he persevered so in this wretched business? Why had he done so much more than his sister had asked him to do? He would move no further in it now.
After all his trouble, to be snubbed, and by the gentleman most to be benefited! “Well, people should mind their own business,” he said to himself. “I’ll mind mine in future.”
It would have been better for Paul Somerton had he resolved upon this when first he arrived in London. It was hardly wise for his sister to excite his curiosity to so high a pitch about the conduct of other people. Both of them suffered for their indiscretion—suffered in more ways than one. Amy’s object was, however, served in a measure; for the dangerous career of young Hammerton was cut short on this eventful night of Paul’s resolve to mind his own business in future, though it would have been better for the honourable gentleman had the conclusion of his gaming experiences been less demonstrative than it was.
When Paul left him, he joined the little party at the Ashford Club, determined not to entertain suspicions which for the moment had been strongly aroused.
This was the night when the pigeon was to be completely plucked. Clever manipulators in this art do not seize upon their prey at a first, or a second, or a third interview. They lure Signor Pigeon on by degrees. They let him win in the first encounter, and in the second or third vary the luck, exciting him at last, perchance, by a rather heavy loss, which he is anxious to retrieve. Shuffleton Gibbs had worked Mr. Hammerton to this point, and had been assisted to some extent by Mr. Richard Tallant; but the latter gentleman had been the tool rather than the confederate of his University companion.