Once more he came to me.
"Will you go with the letter?" he demanded angrily.
"No, I won't go with the letter," I replied, in decided tones.
"You'll be sorry for it, Batchelor," he said, in a significant way.
"Shall I?"
"You would not like my uncle and Mr Barnacle to be told of your early
visits here without leave."
"They are quite welcome to know it."
"And of my catching you and Smith going into their private room."
"Where we found _you_," I replied, laughing, "busy at nobody knows
what?"
He looked at me hard as I drew this bow at a venture, and then said,
"You must know, Batchelor, that I have a right to sit in that room when
I choose. And," he added, dropping his voice to a whisper and looking
at me in a most significant way--"and if the door happens to be open,
and if you and Smith happen to talk secrets, there's every chance of
their being overheard!"
This was his trump card! If anything was to settle the question of my
obeying him and taking Hodge and Company's letter, this was to do it.
"Then you did hear what was said?" I asked.
"Yes, I did," he said.
"And you mean to say--"
"I mean to say," said he, with a glance up at the clock, "that you had
better take this letter at once, Batchelor."
"And if I don't?"
"If you don't, your friend Smith shall smart for it."
Before I could make up my mind what to do--whether to feign alarm and
take the letter, leaving him to suppose he still had the whip-hand over
us, or whether to undeceive him at once, and defy him point-blank--
before I could reply at all, the door suddenly opened, and Masham
entered.
If anything was still wanted to decide me, this sufficed. I felt
certain now that there was mischief on foot somewhere, and the
appearance of this bird of ill-omen was sufficient to account for
Hawkesbury's eagerness to get me out of the way.
What could have brought these two to arrange a meeting here, at the
office, and at an hour when in the ordinary course of things no one else
would be present?