Dawkins went at once; I think he saw the futility of attempting to speak to his patron about the matter further at that time. Fanshawe and I were just going also, when Murray Olivant, on a sudden impulse, as it seemed, called us back.
"Just one moment; I want to speak to you," he said. I noticed that a sudden seriousness had come over him; even the cigar he had picked up, and from which he had savagely wrenched the end with his teeth, remained unlighted. "Which of you knows anything about this young lady?"
"I don't," I replied at once, and looked at Fanshawe. For in my mind I was certain then that Fanshawe had in some way or other, after overhearing the conversation between Moggs and myself, contrived to get Barbara away. Nothing would persuade me to trust the man.
"And you, Fanshawe?"
"What should I know about her?" was the nervous reply. "What is she to do with me? You've got to manage this business for yourself, Mr. Olivant; it seems to me that your policy is to make other people work for you, and give them nothing but kicks in return. For my part, I wash my hands of it."
I felt sure that he was lying; I was certain in my own mind that he knew more than he would say. But, of course, I could say nothing then.
"You're very silent, Tinman," said Murray Olivant after a pause, during which we had stood helplessly watching him. "What's your opinion of this night's work?"
"My opinion is that Mr. Millard means to carry out his first threat," I replied slowly. I saw him look up at me, and the match he had lighted burned down to his fingers, so that he dropped it hurriedly. He made no attempt to light another.
"To kill me?"
I nodded. "I've seen him, as you haven't seen him; and I know that his life is wrapped up in this girl," I said earnestly. "He fears neither God nor man in such a business as this—and he's gone away to-night, believing that you have harmed her as you threatened—believing that she is lost to him. He's gone out to-night with murder in his heart. Don't I know that look—haven't I seen it?"