The Avenger
by
E. Phillips Oppenheim
Part 5 out of 6
"Damn it all! I'm not obliged to go there, am I?" Heneage
exclaimed testily.
Wrayson looked at him in amazement. Heneage, as a rule, was one of the
most deliberate and even-tempered of men.
"Of course not," he answered. "You won't mind telling me how the Colonel
is, though, will you?"
"I believe he is very well," Heneage answered, more calmly. "He doesn't
come up to town so often this hot weather. Forgive me for being a bit
impatient, old fellow. I've got a fit of nerves, I think."
"You want a change," Wrayson said earnestly. "There's no doubt
about that."
"I am going away very soon," Heneage answered. "As soon as I can get off.
I don't mind telling you, Wrayson, that I've had a shock, and it has
upset me."
Wrayson nodded sympathetically.
"All right, old chap," he said. "I'm beastly sorry, but if you take my
advice, you'll get out of London as soon as you can. Go to Trouville or
Dinard, or some place where there's plenty of life. I shouldn't busy
myself in the country, if I were you. By the bye," he added, "there is
one more question I should like to ask you, if you don't mind."
Heneage called a waiter and ordered more drinks. Then he turned to
Wrayson.
"Well," he said, "go on!"
"About that little brute, Barnes' brother. Is he about still?"
Heneage's face darkened. He clenched his fist, but recovered himself with
a visible effort.
"Yes!" he answered shortly, "he is about. He is everywhere. The little
brute haunts me! He dogs my footsteps, Wrayson. Sometimes I wonder that I
don't sweep him off the face of the earth."
"But why?" Wrayson asked. "What does he want with you?"
"I will tell you," Heneage answered. "When he first turned up, I was
interested in his story, as you know. We commenced working at the thing
together. You understand, Wrayson?"
"Perfectly!"
"Well--after a while it suited me--to drop it. Perhaps I told him so a
little abruptly. At any rate, he was disappointed. Now he has got an idea
in his brain. He believes that I have discovered something which I will
not tell him. He follows me about. He pesters me to death. He is a slave
to that one idea--a hideous, almost unnatural craving to get his hands
on the source of his brother's money. I think that he will very soon be
mad. To tell you the truth, I came in here to-night because I thought I
should be safe from him. I don't believe he has five shillings to get in
the place."
Wrayson lit a cigarette and smoked for a moment in silence. Then he
turned towards his companion.
"Heneage," he said, "I don't want to annoy you, but you must remember
that this matter means a good deal to me. I am forced to ask you a
question, and you must answer it. Have you really found anything out? You
don't often give a thing up without a reason."
Heneage answered him with greater composure than he had expected, though
perhaps to less satisfactory effect.
"Look here, Wrayson," he said, "you appreciate plain speaking,
don't you?"
Wrayson nodded. Heneage continued:
"You can go to hell with your questions! You understand that? It's
plain English."
