The gentleman got out; the lady after; and both glided in through a door, that stood hospitably open to receive them.
The cabman, whose fare had been paid in advance, drove immediately away.
“Enough!” muttered Swinton, with a diabolical grin upon his countenance. “That will do. And now for a witness to make good my word in a court of—Ha! ha! ha! It will never come to that.”
Lest it should, he hastened to procure the witness. He was just in the neighbourhood to make such a thing easy. He knew Leicester Square, its every place and purlieu; and among others one where he could pitch upon a “pal.”
In less than fifteen minutes’ time, he found one; and in fifteen more, the two might have been seen standing at the corner of — Street, apparently discussing of some celestial phenomenon that absorbed the whole of their attention!
They had enough left to give to a lady and gentleman, who shortly after came out of the “quiet hotel”—the lady first, the gentleman at an interval behind her.
They did not discover themselves to the lady, who seemed to pass on without observing them.
But as the gentleman went skulking by, both turned their faces towards him.
He, too, looked as if he did not see them; but the start given, and the increased speed at which he hurried on out of sight, told that he had recognised at least one of them, with a distinctness that caused him to totter in his steps!
The abused husband made no movement to follow him. So far he was safe; and in the belief that he—or she at least—had escaped recognition, he walked leisurely along Piccadilly, congratulating himself on his bonne fortune!