He shrugged his shoulders again, and drew from his pocket a knife. Keeping his eyes fixed on the swaying figure above him, he mounted to a chair, and so to the table, deftly and strongly lifted the dead man upon one shoulder while he severed the rope above his head. Then he stepped down, first to the chair and then to the floor, and laid the thing, not ungently, on a couch in the corner. I was able now to avert my eyes from it.
"Does that please you?" he asked, with something of a sneer. "Get forward into the light a little; I want to see you."
I stepped forward, and he looked me up and down; then he nodded slowly, and showed that white gleam of his teeth. "I see—a convict," he said. "From what prison?"
"Many miles from here," I answered him. "I escaped early this morning; someone brought me as far as this on a motor-car. I broke in—because I wanted food and a change of clothing. I was desperate."
"I see—I see," he said, in his smooth voice. "A change of clothing, and food. Perhaps we may be able to provide you with both."
"You mean you'll promise to do so, while you communicate with the police, I suppose?" I answered sullenly.
He smiled, and shook his head. "That is not my way of doing things at all," he said. "You are desperate, you tell me, and I have no particular interest in your recapture. If it comes to that, I have trouble enough of my own." He glanced for a moment at the body behind him. "I should like to know how it comes about that you are a convict—for what particular crime, I mean?"
I told him, as briefly as I could, the whole story, not painting myself too black, you may be sure. He listened with deep attention until I had finished, and then for a minute or two he stood still, with his arms folded, evidently considering some point deeply. I waited, forgetful of all else but the man before me, for he seemed to hold my fate in his hands. All this time the old man I had found in the room stood in a corner, smiling foolishly, and nibbing his hands one over the other. The other man who dominated the situation took not the faintest notice of him.
"How long have you been hanging about this place, waiting to break in?" demanded the man who had come into the room last. "Speak the truth."
"I don't exactly know," I answered. "I fell asleep while I lay in the grounds, and lost count of time. But I saw him,"—I nodded my head towards that prone figure on the couch—"I saw him in the grounds."