it was Polycarp's quiet, mincing, imperious voice.
'Come out of it yourself!'
The answering tones were gruff, heavy, full, the speech of a strong
coarse-fibred man.
Hugo peeped cautiously through the portiere. Polycarp was backing slowly
out of the room into the hall, followed by a tall, dark, scowling man,
who bore an ordinary kitchen candle. Polycarp halted in the middle of
the floor. The man also halted; he seemed to be towering over Polycarp
in an attitude of menace.
'Let me pass,' said the man. 'I've had enough of this.'
Polycarp smiled scornfully.
'You're caught,' said he. 'You're one of Hawke's men, aren't you?'
'Go to h---!' was the man's ferocious reply.
'Answer my question, sir.'
'What if I am?' the man grumbled.
'In five minutes you'll be in the hands of the police. I got wind
yesterday of what your rascally agency was up to. You needn't deny
anything. You're working on behalf of Mr. Ravengar. You know me! Mr.
Ravengar happens to be a client of mine, but after to-night he will be
so no longer. What he wants done in this flat I cannot guess, but it's
an absolute certainty that you're in for three years' penal, my friend.'
'Let me pass,' the man repeated, lifting his jaw, 'or I'll blow your
brains out!'
He produced his revolver.
'Oh no, you won't,' said Polycarp coldly. 'You daren't. You aren't on
the stage, and you aren't in Texas. And you aren't a bold Bret Harte
villain. You're simply the creature of a private inquiry agency, as it's
called, the most miserable of trades! Usually you spend your time in
manufacturing divorces, but just now you're doing something more
dangerous even than that, something that needed more pluck than you've
got. I should advise you to come with me quietly.'
Polycarp was in evening dress, and carried a pair of white gloves. Hugo
decidedly admired the old dandy as he stood there gazing up so
condescendingly at the man with the candle.
'Look here!' said the man with the candle. 'Let me pass. I don't want
any fuss. I want to go. There's more in this flat than I bargained for.
Let me pass.'
'Give me that revolver,' Polycarp smoothly demanded.
'Curse it!' cried the man. 'I'll give it you! Hands up, you old fool! Do
you think I'm here for fun?'
And he raised the revolver.
'I shall not put my hands up.'
'I'll count five,' said the man grimly, 'and if you don't--'
'Count.'
'One!... two!... three! Can't you see I mean it?'
Hugo perceive
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