“Yes, sir.”
Barker withdrew, and Haywood soon after took his departure. Passing through the hall, he bowed to Florence Darley and Mabel Cummings, who were chatting in the drawing-room, and bade them good-night.
Then he left the house, and, walking toward Dalton in the darkness of the night, he thought, exultingly:
“In twenty-four hours from to-morrow morning all the documents will be destroyed—the letters from Anthony to William Conrad, the evidence against me, the will—all that can in any way interfere with my plans! And Florence—yes, she shall marry me; I’ll have her by some means, whether fair or foul.”
The next day he was about his business as usual, with nothing in his manner to indicate the anxiety with which he anticipated the coming night’s work.
Toward evening a note was handed him, the bearer departing as soon as he had delivered it. Haywood was in his store, and he immediately went into his private office and read the note. Its contents disturbed him strangely. He knit his brow, hesitated for a moment, and then wrote these words on a slip of paper:
“Not to-night.”
Inclosing the slip in an envelope, he dispatched a messenger to Elm Grove, with instructions to hand it to Barker.
Something had interrupted his plans.
The remaining few hours of the day he passed mostly in his private office, being evidently in too agitated a frame of mind to appear before his fellow-beings.