'But what has that to do with you?'
Cuthbert gave an odd short laugh. 'Only that he says I took it.'
'I don't understand.'
'Perhaps you think so too,' he said bitterly. 'No, Will, you know I did not mean that, but they've driven me half out of my senses with all this.'
'Cuthbert, my father never said you had taken his money.'
'Said it, or thought it, it pretty nearly comes to the same thing. I understood well enough what he was after, so I'm off. Never mind that now. We can't talk here, and I've got something to say to you. We don't go until to-morrow morning, so I can walk back with you.'
'You're coming home for to-night, at all events?'
'I can't go there,' said Cuthbert his lip trembling, 'not to your father's house. Clifford will take me in.'
He turned and spoke to some one inside the house. There was a confused noise of singing and loud laughter, and the jingling of glasses from the bar. In a minute Cuthbert came out again, and said it was all right. He need not be there until sunrise the next day.
'Come on,' he said impatiently, and he began to walk up the street with long, quick strides.