"There's no welcome for you—nor for anyone else," he said sourly. "Look at me, my boy; I'm turned out. Simply given my marching orders, if you please, and sent packing."
"Have you been to Green Barn?" I asked him.
He nodded. "Went down in the friendliest fashion, to see a man I've been devilish useful to—and what do I get? A meal, of course; then I'm calmly told that the doctor is in retirement, and is not receiving guests. More than that, I'll tell you something else that may not be to your liking."
He leaned forward, thrusting his heavy face towards me, and dropping a hand on each knee. I had always disliked the man; I could have struck him full in his smiling face now for the look it wore.
"I don't suppose it'll be a bit to your liking, Mr. John New, or whatever your confounded name is," he said. "But the doctor has sent everyone away—servants and all—sent 'em packing to-day. He's a bit mad, I think, over that girl—or else he really means to kill her. But there they are—just the pair of 'em—alone together in that house. If you ask me," he added with a leer, "I wouldn't mind changing places with him, and I should say——"
I waited for no more; I left the man, and almost ran out of the station in my excitement. I heard him call after me, but could not know what the words were; nor did I greatly care. One picture, and one only, possessed my mind, to the exclusion of everything else. The figure of Capper was blotted out by that more tragic figure of Debora, at the mercy of Bardolph Just, in that lonely Essex house. More than all else, I realised that my hands would be in a sense tied by Debora, because she would believe that my liberty would be endangered if she left the doctor.
I found that to be true enough. So confident was the man of his power over her that he had given her a certain amount of liberty; so that, to my surprise and my delight, I suddenly came face to face with her within an hour of my reaching Green Barn—and that, too, near to the little hut at the edge of the abandoned chalk pit.
The meeting was so surprising to both of us that for a time we could only hold hands, and talk incoherently, each in a great relief at finding the other safe and well. But at last we came down to more prosaic things, and she told me something of what was happening.
Bardolph Just had sworn to carry his threat into execution if she saw me again, or had anything further to do with me; he had determined to risk everything, and to give me up to the authorities. I tried to show her that the man would never dare proceed to that extremity, because of the danger in which he would place himself by so doing. And then I told her about Capper, and about Capper's threat.
"Capper is here!" she exclaimed, startlingly enough.