With Trendall stood Sir Hugh Elcombe, while their companions were two detective-inspectors from Scotland Yard.
"Hallo!—Fetherston!" gasped Trendall. "I—I expected to find Weirmarsh here! What has happened?"
"The doctor is already here," was the other's quick reply. "I have found some curious things in this place! Secret printing-presses for forged notes."
"We already know that," he said. "Sir Hugh Elcombe here has, unknown to us, obtained certain knowledge, and to-day he came to me and gave me a full statement of what has been in progress. What he has told me this afternoon is among the most valuable and reliable information that we ever received."
"I know something of the scoundrels," remarked the old general, "because—well, because, as I have confessed to Mr. Trendall, I yielded to temptation long ago and assisted them."
"Whatever you have done, Sir Hugh, you have at least revealed to us the whole plot. Only by pretending to render assistance to these scoundrels could you have gained the intensely valuable knowledge which you've imparted to me to-day," replied the keen-faced director from Scotland Yard.
Fetherston realised instantly that the fine old fellow, whom he had always held in such esteem, was making every effort to atone for his conduct in the past; but surely that was not the moment to refer to it—so he ushered the four men into the ill-lit dining-room wherein the others were standing, none knowing how next to act.
When the doctor and Sir Hugh faced each other there was a painful silence for a few seconds.
To Weirmarsh Trendall was known by sight, therefore the criminal saw that the game was up, and that Sir Hugh had risked his own reputation in betraying him.
"You infernal scoundrel!" cried the doctor angrily. "You—to whom I have paid so many thousands of pounds—have given me away! But I'll be even with you!"