To his surprise, Hugh sprang to his feet in a great excitement.
“For heaven’s sake, old man, don’t talk about it in that cold-blooded way. I am in a devil of a mess. I don’t mind telling you now—but keep it dark from Renie—I owed Hart £5,000 on my expectations from the Brantfield property. He’s had the bond—of course. I believe it was in that stolen deed-box—I was the last person in the house—no one saw me leave. Has Renie told you her theory of the murder?” Gerard looked at him and whistled.
“That’s how you staved off the bankruptcy, was it? I often wondered.”
“Yes, that was how,” said Hugh, laconically.
Gerard reflected, pulling at his pipe.
“I don’t see anything to be nervous about. Unless you’re keeping something back from me—human nature asserting itself—are you?”
“I tell you I’m in a devil of a mess,” said Hugh. “I didn’t mean to say anything about it. But I’ve told you so much. If you could help me, I would let you. The best thing is to go home to Renie—not just yet—and forget everything about it.”
Gerard drew his eyelids together and peered at his friend, then rose and walked straight up to him.
“Do you mean to hint that you accidentally killed that old man?”
Hugh looked at him incredulously for a moment and then broke into a derisive laugh.