For over a minute Ford waited, but from the hall there was no answer.
After another minute of silence, Ford turned and gazed inquiringly at Miss Dale.
“Prothero!” he called.
Again for a full minute he waited and again called, and then, as there still was no reply, he struck the door sharply with his knuckles. On the instant the voice of the Jew rang forth in an angry bellow.
“Keep away from that door!” he commanded.
Ford turned to Miss Dale and bent his head close to hers.
“Now, why the devil didn't he answer?” he whispered. “Was it because he wasn't there; or is he planning to steal away and wants us to think that even if he does not answer, he's still outside?” The girl nodded eagerly.
“This is it,” she whispered. “My uncle is a coward or rather he is very wise, and has left the house. And Prothero means to follow, but he wants us to think he's still on guard. If we only KNEW!” she exclaimed.
As though in answer to her thought, the voice of Prothero called to them.
“Don't speak to me again,” he warned. “If you do, I'll not answer, or I'll shoot!”