He kept his head down and his face averted from me as he said, “I arrived here at a quarter to nine this morning, and noticed the door of this room open, and when I came to see who was there I saw Batchelor in the act of shutting the safe. He did not notice me at first, not until he was coming out of the room. I asked him what he was doing here. He seemed very much disconcerted, and said he had been looking for some papers he had left on Mr Barnacle’s table the day before. I asked him what he had been doing with the safe, and where he had got the key to open it. He got into a great state, and begged me to say nothing about it. I said I was bound to tell you what I had seen. Then he flew into a rage, and told me he’d serve me out. I told him that wouldn’t prevent me doing what was right. Then he left the office, and didn’t come back till a quarter to ten.”
All this Hawkesbury repeated glibly and hurriedly in a low voice. To me, who stood by and heard it, it was a cowardly lie from beginning to end. But to my employers, I felt, it must sound both businesslike and straightforward; quite as straightforward, I feared, as my own equally exact but tremblingly-spoken story.
“You hear what Hawkesbury says?” said Mr Merrett, turning to me.
I roused myself with an effort, and answered quietly, “Yes, sir.”
“What have you to say to it?”
“That it is false from beginning to end.”
“You deny, in fact, ever having been at this safe, or in this room?”
“Most certainly.”
They all looked grave, and Mr Merrett said, solemnly, “I am sorry to hear you deny it, Batchelor. If you had made a full confession we should have been disposed to deal more leniently with you.”
“I never did it—it’s all false!” I cried, suddenly losing all self-control. “You know it’s false; it’s a plot to ruin me and Jack.”