"That instant minute," said Moggs. "I mentioned who you was, an' that you was waitin' for 'er; it seemed that she'd on'y bin persuaded to stop there, believin' that the young gent was comin' any minute. Now she's in my room—right at the top, under the tiles—as safe as safe. Oh, I tell yer, it wants a woman for this work!"
I shook the diminutive creature's hand; I was just about to break out into some further expressions of gratitude, when her eyes warned me that we had a listener. I turned swiftly, in time to see a line of light down the edge of the door of the room—a line that was gradually narrowing, until it disappeared altogether as the door was closed. I understood at once that Jervis Fanshawe had been listening to all that had been said.
"It's all right," I assured her quickly. "I think he's our friend; in any case I can keep him silent. Go up and see Miss Savell; tell her that I'm near at hand, and that I will come up to her the moment I can slip away."
Moggs disappeared instantly, and I opened the door and went into the room. Fanshawe was seated on the side of the bed, with his hands pressed together between his knees, rocking himself slowly backwards and forwards. He seemed strangely excited, but I hardly noticed that at the time, in my indignation that he should have played the spy upon me.
"Why did you listen?" I asked.
"Why won't you trust me, Charlie?" He looked up at me, and there was again in his eyes that fear I had seen before. "I know that all I have done gives the lie to what I want to do; but I am sincere now, because I'm afraid. Won't you trust me?"
"There is no necessity for me to trust any one," I replied. "I don't know how much you know, or how much you don't; but I want to tell you this: it'll go hard with any one who tries again to defeat what I am trying to do. I've got my chance now to upset all the plans that you and those connected with you have made; for your own sake you'd better keep out of it."
"What are you going to do with her? What do you think you can do—you who are poor and weak and alone; what hope have you of fighting against richer men? I tell you you'll come to grief, and I shall walk for ever with the shadow of the dead Barbara by my side. I know it—I know it!"
"I tell you it is a matter that does not concern you," I said again. "Why should you expect me to trust to you—you whose long life has been a lie from beginning to end? Keep out of it, I tell you; it will go hard with you if you play me any tricks again."
I left him sitting in that dejected attitude; I heard him muttering again and again that I did not and I would not understand! I opened the door, and went out on to the staircase, meaning to see the girl Barbara, and to reassure her as to her safety. But while I stood there for a moment I heard voices down below, voices that I knew.