"Exactly," he sneered, as he thrust his face into mine. "And that was the reason that you went into the _George_ just now, and so anxiously inquired concerning the whereabouts of our young friend Millard--eh? I was in the bar at the side, and heard every word. Idiot!--why can't you be more candid with me? I only want to work with you; I'm not against you." "I'm not so sure of that," I replied. "At all events, I mean to do whatever is in my mind solely on my own account. I'm fighting now not only for the boy, but for my own dead boyhood, away back in the past. It won't be wise of you if you attempt to stop me." "My dear Charlie, I'd be the last to stop you," he asserted, seizing my hand and giving it a squeeze. "We work together; our interests are the same. Trust me, Charlie--you'll never regret it." "I don't intend to trust any one," I said. Then, in an incautious moment, I added exultantly--"I mean to snatch both these young people out of the clutches of Olivant; I mean to set them free. And not you nor all the world shall prevent me." "My dear boy, I wouldn't prevent you, even if I could. It won't be half a bad thing to do; I shall be quite pleased for you to take a rise out of Murray Olivant; I hate the man." "Your feelings have changed somewhat too rapidly," I said. "I won't trust you, Fanshawe." "Well, I'll help you, whether you like it or not," he said, with a laugh. "Young Millard has gone down into the woods. I followed him there not an hour ago." I looked at the man doubtfully; I did not know what to believe. I was so utterly alone in this business of plotting and counterplotting, and I wanted so much to rely on some one for help and advice. I decided, however, that I would have nothing to do with him; with a nod I turned away. "You'll be sorry," he called after me. "I could help you if you'd let me." I took no notice of him; I went on my way steadily. I began even to regret that I had made that bombastic speech to him about snatching the two young people out of the clutches of Murray Olivant. I saw that there was the more need for hurry; I went on with long strides towards the wood. After a long search I found the boy; he was making rough sketches of a part of the wood, not with any serious intention to work, I am convinced, but because he hoped that Barbara might pass that way. I stole upon him unawares; suddenly presented myself before him, and blurted out what I wanted to say. "Mr. Millard, I have been looking for you everywhere," I said. "It is on account of Miss Barbara Savell." He turned to me quickly. "Do you come from her?" he asked. "Yes--and no," I faltered. "Last night, after you had gone, the man Olivant tried to insult her; I was so lucky as to be in the way--and I--I stayed near her for the rest of the night. You must take her away from that house at once."