“A little love costs nothing,” laughed the nonchalant adventurer, “and very often does a lot.”
“Well, we must know what’s going on between them, that’s quite plain,” remarked Challas. “I never expected Charlie to give us away.”
“Bah! he always was chicken-hearted where women were concerned. He must have been in love once, I fancy, and hasn’t got over the attack yet.”
“We must be very watchful, Jim.”
“That’s why I didn’t leave for Constantinople, as you suggested,” was the other’s reply, as he tossed the end of his cigar into the fire and lazily rose from his comfortable chair. “My own idea, Felix, is that Charlie is growing far too scrupulous. One day we shall have him in a fit of remorse making some nasty confession or other, taking the consequences, and putting us both into a confounded hole. Think what it would mean for you!”
“By Jove, yes!” gasped the other, turning pale at the very suggestion of exposure. “We can’t afford to risk that.”
“I maintain that if Charlie lets the girl escape us and give us away, as he has done, then he’ll do something worse before long,” exclaimed the crafty man with a curious glance at the Baronet, whose back was at that moment turned to him.
Challas was silent. He clearly saw the drift of the man’s argument.
“Well?” he asked at last, lowering his voice. “What do you suggest?”
“Suggest? Why there’s only one course open, my dear fellow,” replied the other, glancing apprehensively at the door. “Get rid of him while there’s yet time.”