His heart went down within him. What would be the upshot of what had just occurred? Would she restore the papers to him when she had mastered what was in them—perhaps made a copy of them? A grim smile came over him at the thought that this would be playing off on him the very trick that he himself had played upon Sir Henry Emerson.
Fool that he had been! Why could he not have delivered his papers to the hosier, Perry, before going to see his wife? Then this awful predicament would have been avoided. Again his insensate passion for this Delilah had made him betray his trust. And he had meant to be true this time—certainly so far as the delivery of this despatch. He cursed himself for not having foreseen that, when once Halima had discovered the object of his journey, she would do her best to make it futile, when, by so doing, she would baffle Buonaparte.
And now what could he do? Nothing against her will; she had him, so to speak, bound and gagged.
In a fit of desperation, he rushed to the bell and pulled it frantically; so violently, indeed, that he quickly broke it. But no one came in answer to his summons. Halima had given orders to the contrary. Also she had placed a strong man-servant at the door, with instructions to stop St. Just should he burst it open. He did try, but his efforts were in vain. Again and again he threw himself against it, but the door was strong and resisted every impulse.
Then he began to shout with all his strength, now employing threats and now entreaties. But still no one came to him. At last, he was compelled to cease for want of breath. Patience only seemed left to him, but how could he be patient?
He threw himself into a chair, worn out with his exertions, and abandoned himself to the bitterness of his thoughts. So bitter indeed were they, and so plunged in misery was he and so unhinged, that he could not have been safely entrusted with a lethal weapon; for probably that evening would have been his last. It was fortunate that Halima had removed his traveling cloak, for it contained a brace of loaded pistols.
The twilight deepened and glided into night, and then, wearied out, he fell asleep. Hour succeeded hour, until the night was nearly spent and dawn approached.
He did not hear a carriage pull up before the house, but, almost immediately afterwards, he felt himself roughly shaken. Opening his eyes, he saw a servant standing over him with a candle in his hand.
Without speaking, the man put into his hand a note, which ran as follows:
"Accompany the bearers whither they take you, without fear. Halima."