"It's not that I'm afraid," Maunders hastily assured him. "As Diabella I have done nothing to which the law can take exception. The assaults on you and the Colonel were brought about by your own damned meddling and by the fidelity of Hokar. But I have given up playing Diabella----" "Because you feared lest we should have you arrested," said Towton shrewdly. "No. Had I been afraid I should never have appeared at the bazaar." "Oh, yes, you would. You pretended to leave London so as to provide an _alibi_ in case of danger," said Vernon quietly, "and you did not think that Colonel Towton would be at the bazaar. Seeing me didn't matter, as you did not know that Towton and myself were working together. And when I think of the infernal rubbish you told me----" "It was your own fault," said Maunders sulkily, "and I've had enough of this so, I'm off." He moved towards the door, but Towton sprang forward and caught his arm. "If you leave this room you will be handed over to the police," he declared. "He will be handed over in any case," said Vernon decisively. Maunders turned ghastly pale and his knees shook. He was beginning to lose the courage which had carried him so far successfully. "Vernon, you would not disgrace your old friend," he pleaded piteously. "You are no friend of mine," was the stern reply, "and your sole chance of escape from arrest is to reveal how you learned this secret of Dimsdale's." "If I tell it will you let me leave this house free?" "No, I shan't. I intend to keep an eye on you until this mystery of The Spider is cleared up. You are his jackal." "I am not; I know nothing. I refuse to speak." "Colonel, go out and fetch a policeman." "No! No! No! No!" almost shrieked the wretched man, and flung himself on his knees. "Arthur, don't, don't. I swear I am innocent. I know nothing of Dimsdale's murder." "Stand up, you cur, and speak out," said Vernon, more enraged by this exhibition of weakness than he had been by the man's insolence. "How did you learn this secret of Dimsdale's? Is it true or a lie?" "It is true. It is true. I swear it is true. Oh, don't call in the police." Maunders still grovelled and clung to the knees of Vernon with such force that the young man could not get away. Outside, the fog had rolled right up to the single window of the apartment, and the livid look of the atmosphere suited the situation much better than did the calm, rosy light of the lamp. Near the door knelt Maunders, weeping piteously and begging that the police might not be called in. Vernon stood silent, but Towton gave vent to an oath at the unmanly demeanour of the detected scoundrel. "Who told you the secret?" he demanded fiercely. "I insist upon knowing, and if you don't tell I'll call in the police myself. A cur such as you are should be under lock and key." "Come, Maunders," said Vernon sternly, "who told you?" "Miss Jewin. She knew Dimsdale in India and Burmah," snuffled the kneeling man, desperately afraid.