For a second I hesitated, wondering how much he knew.
"Were you awake?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, I didn't 'ear nothin', but when I come through this mornin', danged if 'e wasn't sitting there on the mat."
He placed the cup on a small table beside me, and, crossing the room, drew up the blind.
"I changed my mind after I had gone to bed," I explained. "I felt I should sleep better if I knew that Satan was downstairs." I took a sip of the tea, and reaching out for my case, helped myself to a cigarette. "You can call the doctor in about ten minutes," I added. "I'll have my bath first and get out of his way."
Bascomb nodded and left the room without any further remark, though from the expression on his face I think he had a dim suspicion that I was keeping something back. Perhaps I should have been wiser to take him completely into my confidence, but to tell the truth I was half ashamed to confess the bungling way in which I had handled the business. Besides, faithful as I believed him to be, there was such a queer, sullen twist in his temper that I never felt quite certain how far it would be safe to trust him.
Washing and shaving are occupations which lend themselves to reflection, and I certainly found plenty to think about during the quarter of an hour that I spent in the bathroom. On the whole, as a result of my musings, I was inclined to take a slightly less pessimistic view of the situation. Although I had not exactly covered myself with glory as a private detective, I had at least established the truth of my theory that Manning possessed some strong and urgent reason for wishing to explore the house. Indeed, judging by the risks he had run, it looked as if the success of his schemes depended largely upon this particular point, and if that were the case I had apparently shoved a pretty effective spoke in his wheel.
All the same, I didn't quite like the way in which he had accepted his defeat. Even allowing for his cleverness and self-control, it was difficult to imagine that anyone who had been balked at the last moment in some vital enterprise could have betrayed so little sign of feeling. Disappointed he had certainly appeared, but it had been the disappointment of a man who has merely lost a trick which he hoped to gain, and who still cherishes a fond belief that he is going to win the rubber.
I wondered very much what he thought about my part in the performance. There had been, to put it mildly, a timeliness about my appearance on the scene which could hardly have failed to awake his suspicions. These were not likely to have been lessened by the deliberate way in which I had let Satan into the house, though in either case my action might very well have borne the innocent interpretation that I had attempted to give it. He was probably in a state of considerable uncertainty on the subject, and it was pleasant to feel that I was paying him back a small instalment of all the worry he had caused me.
What I would have given anything for was a good long chat with Bobby. I am all right in a straight-forward scrap, but I knew that at this sort of business his head was worth a dozen of mine, and that he would most likely pounce upon some important point which I had completely overlooked. Indeed, if it had not been for my appointment with Mr. Drayton I should have run up to Harwich to see him; as it was, I should have to put off our talk until my return from London.