“And you knew about—about his death? You have heard how a man shot him, and——”
“I did not know of his death,” Nash answered gravely. “That is, I was not positive.”
She was facing him now. “How strangely you talk, Mr. Nash!”
“Possibly it is because I am placed in a strange position,” Nash replied.
She started to speak, then stopped. The chugging of a motor interrupted, and instinctively both man and woman understood. Nash stepped swiftly to the window. The flashing lights of a big car were dancing down the road.
“It—it’s the officers!” the girl exclaimed. She had followed the engineer, and was peering over his shoulder.
“I’m afraid so,” Nash responded.
“They’ve come to-night—instead of in the morning. They must have suspected you would try to escape.”
Nash dropped the curtain and went back to the table.
“It’s too—too late for you to get away now,” she stammered, breathing hard. “What—what are you going to do?”