At this stage of his narrative, Hill stopped and looked anxiously at his audience as though to gather some idea of their feelings before he proceeded further.  But Inspector Chippenfield, with a fierce stare, merely remarked: 

“And you consented?”

“I didn’t at first,” Hill retorted earnestly, “but when I refused he threatened me—­threatened that he’d expose me and drag me and my wife and child down to poverty.  I pleaded with him, but it was of no use, and at last I had to consent.  I had some hope that in doing so I might find an opportunity to warn Sir Horace, but Birchill did not give me a chance.  He insisted that the burglary should take place without delay.  All I was to do was to give him a plan of the house, explain where to find the most valuable articles that had been left there, and wait for him at the flat while he committed the burglary.  His idea in making me wait for him at the flat was to make sure that I didn’t play him false—­put the double on him, as he called it—­and he told the girl not to let me out of her sight till he came back, if anything went wrong I should have to pay for it when he came back.

“In accordance with Sir Horace’s instructions, I sent the servants off to his country estate.  It had been arranged that Birchill was to wait for me to come over to the flat on the 18th of August, the night fixed for the burglary.  But about 7 o’clock, while I was at Riversbrook, I heard the noise of wheels outside, and looking out, I saw to my dismay Sir Horace getting out of a taxi-cab with a suit-case in his hand.  My first impulse was to tell him everything—­indeed, I think that if I had had a chance I would have—­but he came in looking very severe, and without saying a word about why he had returned from Scotland, said very sharply, ’Hill, have the servants been sent down to the country, as I directed?’ I told him that they had.  ‘Very good,’ he said, ’then you go away at once, I won’t want you any more.  I want the house to myself to-night.’  ‘Sir Horace,’ I began, trembling a little, but he stopped me.  ‘Go immediately,’ he said; ‘don’t stand there,’ And he said it in such a tone that I was glad to go.  There was something in his look that frightened me that night.  I got across to Birchill’s place and found him and the girl waiting for me.  I told him what had happened, and begged him to give up the idea of the burglary.  But he’d been drinking heavily, and was in a nasty mood.  First he said I’d been playing him false and had warned Sir Horace, but when I assured him that I hadn’t he insisted on going to commit the burglary just the same.  With that he pulled out a revolver from his pocket, and swore with an oath that he’d put a bullet through me when he came back if I’d played him false and put Sir Horace on his guard, and that he’d put a bullet in the old scoundrel—­meaning Sir Horace—­if he interrupted him while he was robbing the house.