He had already guessed that General Whiston had gone to telephone Captain Gilbert. He recalled now the letter General Whiston had written to old Colonel Treves. The letter which said that he had done for Bernard Treves everything that was possible.
His mind then turned again to Gilbert. He wondered what the Captain would do when he heard of the extraordinary outcome of his visit to St. George's Square. He had gone there at Gilbert's own suggestion. He felt that the situation for himself at that moment was delicate in the extreme. But it was not yet fatal. A miscarriage of justice was impossible if Gilbert spoke up, as no doubt he would do. He knew that all Gilbert's sympathy for Bernard Treves would vanish the moment he heard to what depths that young man had descended. He recalled what Gilbert had said:
"Treves is afraid. He imagines that some one is watching him."
Then it suddenly occurred to John that at the back of Treves's mind there had been a subtle idea against himself. Treves had desired that he, John, should step into his guilty shoes and should not only wear those shoes, but should suffer for his crime.
"I stepped into far deeper water than I knew," mused John, and as the thought passed through his mind, the door opened and General Whiston re-entered.
The General walked behind John, then turned and looked keenly into his face.
"Treves," he said, "you will be examined again in the morning."
Sir Robert's finger was suspended over the bell upon his desk. In answer to his inquiring glance, General Whiston nodded.
Again John felt a man's hand laid on his shoulder, and for the second time a voice uttering polite words:
"This way, please!"