"
"What do you mean?" I whispered, trembling like a leaf as his
meaning dawned upon me. "Are we to get the money from the
jeweller?"
"Well, not exactly."
"What, then?"
"The equivalent--from his shop."
There was no need for another question. I understood everything
but my own density. He had given me a dozen hints, and I had
taken none. And there I stood staring at him, in that empty room;
and there he stood with his dark lantern, laughing at me.
"A burglar!" I gasped. "You--you!"
"I told you I lived by my wits."
"Why couldn't you tell me what you were going to do? Why
couldn't you trust me? Why must you lie?" I demanded, piqued to
the quick for all my horror.
"I wanted to tell you," said he. "I was on the point of telling
you more than once. You may remember how I sounded you about
crime, though you have probably forgotten what you said yourself.
I didn't think you meant it at the time, but I thought I'd put
you to the test. Now I see you didn't, and I don't blame you. I
only am to blame. Get out of it, my dear boy, as quick as you
can; leave it to me. You won't give me away, whatever else you
do!"
Oh, his cleverness! His fiendish cleverness! Had he fallen back
on threats, coercion, sneers, all might have been different even
yet. But he set me free to leave him in the lurch.
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