“I want to know how much longer this is a-goin’ on, Mister Bradstone,” he said. “This ’ere game’s a-gettin’ too thin. If you ain’t tired, I am. I suppose you thought you could give me the slip, but you reckoned without your man, Mister Bradstone.” Bartley Bradstone leaned against the door and stared at him breathlessly. “I do not know you,” he said. “You’ve made some mistake. You know my name. What do you want with me?” Seth laughed shortly. “Let’s go inside,” he said. Bartley Bradstone took the key out of the door and put it in his pocket. “Say what you have to say here,” he said. “I never saw you before. I do not know what you want with me; if you have come to extort money on any pretext, you’ve come to the wrong man.” “Oh, no, I haven’t,” sneered Seth. “I’ve come to the right man. You don’t know me; but I know you and I knew Bella Lee.” Bartley Bradstone drew a short breath and put his hand to his heart. “You knew Bella Lee?” he said. “What has that to do with me?” Seth laughed unpleasantly. “A good deal, I should think, seein’ as you was ’er ’usband.” Bartley Bradstone’s face went livid, and he looked from side to side, like the hunted man he was. “How do you know that?” he demanded. “Who told you?” “I saw you married,” replied Seth, coolly. “Come, Mister Bradstone, don’t put my back up. I’m rather tired of this game o’ chevyin’ you up to London and back again, and I want to come to business. I know more about you and Bella than you think for.” “Go on,” said Bartley Bradstone. “Tell me what you know or think you know.” “I will,” said Seth. “I know more than the judge and jury as ’ull try Mr. Faradeane, and, by God, I’ll tell ’em, if you don’t make it worth my while to hold my tongue.” Bartley Bradstone stood with his eyes upon the ground, his lips tightly compressed. He seemed to feel the meshes of a huge, wide-spreading net closing round him. Whichever way he turned, he was met by some obstacle to his escape. And this man who had, unseen, tracked him step by step throughout the day, what did he know? And how much? At all costs he must learn this. He opened the door. “Come inside,” he said; and leading the way to the library and turning up the gas, looked keenly at Seth’s dark face and slouching figure. “You say, my man, that you know something about this murder. Do you know who did it?” “I do,” said Seth, seating himself on a corner of the costly inlaid table and kicking his leg to and fro in an insolent fashion. “You do!” said Bartley Bradstone, with a long breath. “I was just going to offer a hundred pounds reward for such information as would lead to the discovery of the man who committed the crime. I will give you that hundred pounds now if you will tell me what you know.” Seth stared at him, then smacked his leg and laughed.