“I think we understand each other now,” he remarked, in a tone which intimated that he wished the interview to terminate.
“Yes,” replied Chewkle, with a very meaning nod, “I think we do understand each other now, and it’s my belief we shall understand one another better by and bye. Good night, sir.”
“Good night—good night,” cried Mr. Grahame, hastily, and added: “Be careful how you descend the staircase, it is narrow, the night is dark, and an accident just now would be unfortunate.”
“To me; but what if I had old Wilton here,” suggested Chewkle, with a savage cackle.
“Hush! hush!” exclaimed Grahame, in a whisper, “not so loud. Mind how you go, do not let the servants discover you, whatever you do, and, above all, be sure to neglect no precaution which may tend to ensure the success of your enterprise.”
Chewkle waved his hand exultingly, and disappeared.
The next morning he was on his way towards Harleydale Manor, bent on executing his murderous mission.