“Ah!” he laughed, “that will be distinctly amusing.”
“For me, perhaps—not for you.”
“Monsieur is at liberty to act as he deems best,” said my visitor.
Therefore, irritated by the fellow’s manner, and in the hope that he would at the eleventh hour relent, I pressed the bell.
It rang loudly, and I heard old Browning go to the telephone beneath the stairs. In a few minutes the constable would arrive, and at least one member of the dangerous gang would be secured.
“Perhaps you will let me pass,” he said, crossing towards the door immediately after I had rung the bell. But I placed myself against it, revolver in hand, preventing him and holding him at bay.
“Very well,” he laughed. “I fear, Mr. Biddulph, that you are not acting judiciously. You refuse to accept my statement that I am here as your friend!”
“Because you, on your part, refuse to reply to my questions.”
But he only shrugged his shoulders again without replying.