“Last night,” he continued, “you crept downstairs after you had gone to your room, and you listened at the door of the smoking-room, where I was talking with Miller,” and he laughed as he saw how she started at his accusation. “Yes, you see I know all about it. The faithful Minton, who saw you, told me,” he went on in a hard voice. “You overheard something—something that has very much surprised you. Now there’s an old adage that says listeners never hear any good of themselves. Therefore we must come to a thorough understanding as soon as we can get a quiet half-hour alone together.”
“I think it is perfectly unnecessary,” she said, with some attempt at defiance.
“There, I beg to differ,” he answered. “You have learnt a secret, and I must have some adequate guarantee that that secret is kept—that no single word of it is breathed to a living soul. You understand, Ella,” he added, in a low, fierce half-whisper, lowering his dark clean-shaven face to hers. “You understand! My life depends upon it!”
Chapter Twenty Two.
At Dawn.
The dark-haired woman who had accompanied Ella in the motor-car came forth and joined the pair, preventing any further confidences, and a few minutes later the dinner-gong sounded, and all three went in to join Mr Murray and his companion.
The windows of the dining-room were closed almost immediately, therefore I neither saw nor heard anything more of that strange household.
My one desire was to see Ella alone, but how could I give her news of my presence?