“Behind the book-shelves,” he muttered, “is the place, but how to remove them is the mystery. Yet it must be done. Every risk must be avoided. The secret may be discovered by accident; the house may change hands and undergo repairs. A thousand things may happen. Oh, for the few words that lie between safety and possible ruin! I have read the paper over and over, and cannot form the slightest conception of its conclusion. But I will triumph! Yes, guard the secret as closely as you will, Carlos Conrad, I will accomplish my end in spite of you!”
He again gave himself up to a profound reverie, and then, as if having decided on a plan of action, quickly replaced the books, and unlocked the door. Having done this, he pulled a bell-knob.
Barker answered the summons.
“Bring me a glass of water, if you please, Barker,” said Haywood, looking up from his writing, which he had resumed before Barker entered.
The errand was performed, and, having set the glass of water on the table, Barker was about to withdraw.
“Wait a moment,” said Haywood. “Shut the door—turn the key—that’s it. I want to talk with you.”
Barker held himself in readiness to listen.
“You earned two hundred dollars once, Barker, very easily. And, by the way, I suppose you have kept perfectly silent regarding the event that I requested you not to mention.”
“Perfectly, sir.”
“That is well. Now I want you to serve me again, and I will pay you satisfactorily.”