He looked at me sharply as though to see whether I were telling him the truth, and then, apparently satisfied with the truthfulness of my countenance, began to express his thanks.
"It's no business of mine," he added tentatively, "but I suppose you know Mr. Furnivall is in the house?"
"What!" I almost shouted.
"Yes," he said. "I was really sent to interview him, but he declines to see any pressmen."
"Does he!" I said. "Well, if you wait here a minute or so, perhaps I might persuade him to change his mind."
"This," broke in Billy, softly rubbing his hands together, "just completes our day."
I turned to Mercia. "Don't be afraid, dear," I said. "There's not going to be any more bloodshed."
She smiled faintly. "I am not afraid," she answered. "One does not fight with men of his sort. He is a coward and a traitor. He sold Prado to the League, and he would have killed you when you were at Ashton."
I nodded my head. "I know, Mercia," I said sadly. "It's on these very points we are going to remonstrate with him."
I led the way up the steps, and then with my hands on the bell I paused.