Chapter Thirty Seven.
How Hawkesbury and I spent a Morning in the Partners’ Room.
“Fetch a policeman!” The truth flashed across me as I heard the words. Instead of standing here an accuser, I stood the accused. Hawkesbury had been before me with a vengeance!
The very shock of the discovery called back the presence of mind, which, on my first summons, I had almost lost. I was determined at least that nothing I should do or say would lend colour to the false charge against me.
“Batchelor,” said Mr Merrett, after Hawkesbury had gone and the door was locked—“Batchelor, we have sent for you here under very painful circumstances. You doubtless know why.”
“I must ask you to tell me, sir,” I replied, respectfully, but with a tremble in my voice which I would have given anything to conceal.
“I will tell you,” said Mr Merrett, “when you have first told Mr Barnacle and me what you have been doing since eight o’clock this morning.”
“And let me advise you,” said Mr Barnacle, looking up, “to tell the truth.”