"By all means, my dear nephew," he said suavely. "If you will allow me to pass you, I will show you where we can talk in comfort."
I did not like his tone in the least; I began to understand that he had had the night in which to think over matters, and had doubtless made good use of the time. However, I followed him into that room from which not so long before I had seen Martha Leach emerge; and there I faced him, with the door shut behind me.
"You're only partly surprised to see me," I began at once. "You heard last night that I was alive, and almost in your neighbourhood. A woman told you."
That seemed to stagger him a little; he looked at me keenly and with a new interest. "How do you know that?" he demanded.
I laughed. "I know the woman who told you; she is no friend of mine, as you may imagine," I answered him. "It must have been rather a shock to you to know that the nephew of whom you had got rid so easily, and who had even apparently had the good sense to put an end to his miserable existence, was very much alive, and likely to trouble you again. Therefore I thought I'd follow up the tale by putting in an appearance at once, the better to relieve your pardonable anxiety."
He grinned at me in a fashion that would have been disconcerting to anyone else; but I was no longer afraid of him. "And what are your demands now?" he asked.
"I'm glad you use the right word," I retorted. "I do demand one or two things, and I'm sure that you'll see that it is best to comply with them. In the first place, I demand your silence as to myself."
"And if I refuse?" He had seated himself by this time in his usual chair, and he sat looking at me, with the heavy stick he carried laid across his knees. "What then?"
I had made up my mind what to say, and I said it at once, though with no real intention of ever putting my threat into execution; I merely wanted to frighten him.
"Then I shall kill you," I said quietly. "That is no idle threat, as you may perhaps understand. You're a cleverer man than I am, because I was never blessed with much brains; and you will see for yourself that, hunted wretch as I am, it does not matter very much what becomes of me. Nevertheless, I have the natural desire to live, and I only ask to be let alone. The Norton Hyde you knew is buried in the prison to which you sent him; let him rest there. A certain other man, who bears a resemblance to him, finds it necessary to pay you a visit——"