"Quite so," observed Sir Percival, cordially, "and since he is powerless to thwart me I can take my own time about the chase."
"Speaking of time, Sir Percival," said Farrell, rising to his feet, "we can't linger here much longer. Come, let us go."
"Tut, Terence," said the baronet, disapprovingly, "how nervous you are."
At this moment Moore opened the door and, striding into the room, gave an exclamation of surprise as he recognized his visitors.
"Mr. Moore, as I live," said Sir Percival, gently. "Sir, we have been waiting for you."
"What do you want here, Sir Percival?" demanded Moore, gruffly, glaring at Farrell, who was manifestly ill at ease.
"I thought I 'd look you up for old times' sake," replied the baronet, a sneer breaking through his smile for once. "Mr. Farrell came at my request."
Moore stepped to the door and opened it.
"Then he will leave at mine," he said, sharply. "Get along, Terence, before I do you an injury."
Farrell did not hesitate. Waving his hat in farewell to Sir Percival, he walked quickly out of the attic and started downstairs as Moore slammed the door loudly after him.