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But towards morning he fell into a heavy sleep from which presently he awoke to find it broad daylight and Deede Dawson standing on the threshold of the shed with his perpetually smiling lips and his cold, unsmiling eyes. "Well, my man; had a good sleep?" he said. "I was tired," Dunn answered. "Yes, we had a busy night," agreed Deede Dawson. "I slept well, too.
The suggestion that he and Ella should pay a visit together to Wreste Abbey was one that greatly surprised Dunn. "All right," he said. "This afternoon? I'll get the car ready." "This is the afternoon the Abbey is thrown open to visitors, isn't it?" asked Deede Dawson.
And again Dunn was certain that a faint suspicion hung about those last two words, and that his life and death hung very evenly in the balance. "Silver, you said," he muttered. "Didn't you?" "Ah, yes yes to be sure," answered Deede Dawson. "Yes, so I did. Silver. I want the lid nailed down. There's a hammer and nails there. Get to work and look sharp."
Now then, Ella was with you tonight; you and she were alone together a long time." "Well," growled Dunn, "what of it?" "Fine girl, isn't she?" asked Deede Dawson, and laughed. Dunn did not speak. It filled him with such loathing to hear this man so much as utter Ella's name, it was all he could do to keep his hands motionless by his side and not make use of them about the other's throat.
Then, in the morning again, the sound of Ella's voice, the merest glimpse of her grave and gracious personality, would bring back once more his instinctive belief in her. The morning after Deede Dawson had paid his visit to the attic there was news, however, that disturbed him greatly, for Mrs.
For want of anything better he picked up the heavy glass inkpot standing on the table, emptied the contents in a puddle on the floor, and held the inkpot itself ready in his hand. He listened intently, but heard no sound no sound at all in the whole house, and this increased his apprehensions, for he knew well that Deede Dawson was a man always the most dangerous when most silent.
Dunn shook his head, and it came to him that he did not attack Deede Dawson and force the truth from him because he dared not, because he was afraid, because he feared what the answer might be. "There's a tool-shed at the bottom of the garden," Deede Dawson said to him. "You can sleep there, tonight. You'll find some sacks you can make a bed of."
In any case, Dunn was sure that Ella had followed then, and was on the landing without. He drove home the last nail and stood up. "That's done," he said. "And well done," said Deede Dawson. "Well done Charley Wright."
Why not exchange a little information, and then separate calmly, rather than indulge in pistol practice that can only mean the death of us both? For if your first bullet goes though my brain I swear my first will be in your heart." "Likely enough," agreed Rupert, "but worth while perhaps." "Oh, that's fanaticism," Deede Dawson answered. "Flattering perhaps to me, but not quite reasonable, eh?"
"If Charley Wright don't suit, how will Robert Dunn do? I knew a man of that name once." "It's a better name than Charley Wright," said Deede Dawson. "We'll call you Robert Dunn Charley Wright. Do you know why I can't have you call yourself Charley Wight?" Dunn shook his head. "Because I don't like it," said Deede Dawson. "Why, that's a name that would drive me mad," he muttered, half to himself.
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