“And now, it seems, the difficulty will be to keep it,” laughed Reilly, holding up a glittering diamond collar and admiring it.
At that instant I chanced to turn towards the hole by which we had entered and saw, silhouetted against the grey light, the dark figure of a man.
Next instant the shadow had disappeared. Someone was spying upon us! If the secret leaked out, then we should, I knew too well, lose everything!
CHAPTER XXXV
THE SPY, AND WHAT HE TOLD US
Without a second’s hesitation I drew the revolver I now habitually carried, and, dashing out through the hole, scrambled up to the surface after the intruder.
Scarcely had I gained my footing above when a shot was fired close to me, and a bullet whizzed past my head. I looked angrily around, but could see no one. The man had taken refuge behind one of the trees, while I stood before him right in the open.
My companions, alarmed by my sudden rush and the report of the pistol, were next instant beside me, and Usher’s quick eyes in a few seconds distinguished a slight movement behind a bush a few yards away. He rushed forward, regardless of consequences, and then I recognized in the intruder the man Martin Franklin. Seeing that we were all armed he held up his hands, and from that action we supposed that he was alone, and that he had fired at me in order to effect his escape.
We quickly closed round him, indignantly demanding his object in spying upon us, but he only laughed and responded insolently. He was a man of about forty, dressed in rough grey tweeds and gaiters, in order, I suppose, to pass as a countryman.
Philip Reilly was furious. He had sprung upon the fellow and with a quick turn of the wrist had wrenched the weapon from his hand.
“I know you!” he shouted. “You are Martin Franklin, the man who was present on the night of the murder at Kilburn! You’ll perhaps recollect that incident—eh?”