Between them they managed to get Cardlestone to his bed, and Spargo, with a happy thought, boiled water on the rusty stove and put hot bottles to his feet.  When that was done they persuaded Elphick to lie down in the inner room.  Presently both old men fell asleep, and then Breton and Spargo suddenly realized that they themselves were hungry and wet and weary.

“There ought to be food in the cupboard,” said Breton, beginning to rummage.  “They’ve generally had a good stock of tinned things.  Here we are, Spargo—­these are tongues and sardines.  Make some hot coffee while I open one of these tins.”

The prisoner watched the preparations for a rough and ready breakfast with eyes that eventually began to glisten.

“I may remind you that I’m hungry, too,” he said as Spargo set the coffee on the table.  “And you’ve no right to starve me, even if you’ve the physical ability to keep me tied up.  Give me something to eat, if you please.”

“You shan’t starve,” said Breton, carelessly.  He cut an ample supply of bread and meat, filled a cup with coffee and placed cup and plate before Myerst.  “Untie his right arm, Spargo,” he continued.  “I think we can give him that liberty.  We’ve got his revolver, anyhow.”

For a while the three men ate and drank in silence.  At last Myerst pushed his plate away.  He looked scrutinizingly at his two captors.  “Look here!” he said.  “You think you know a lot about all this affair, Spargo, but there’s only one person who knows all about it.  That’s me!”

“We’re taking that for granted,” said Spargo.  “We guessed as much when we found you here.  You’ll have ample opportunity for explanation, you know, later on.”

“I’ll explain now, if you care to hear,” said Myerst with another of his cynical laughs.  “And if I do, I’ll tell you the truth.  I know you’ve got an idea in your heads that isn’t favourable to me, but you’re utterly wrong, whatever you may think.  Look here!—­I’ll make you a fair offer.  There are some cigars in my case there—­give me one, and mix me a drink of that whisky—­a good ’un—­and I’ll tell you what I know about this matter.  Come on!—­anything’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”

The two young men looked at each other.  Then Breton nodded.  “Let him talk if he likes,” he said.  “We’re not bound to believe him.  And we may hear something that’s true.  Give him his cigar and his drink.”

Myerst took a stiff pull at the contents of the tumbler which Spargo presently set before him.  He laughed as he inhaled the first fumes of his cigar.

“As it happens, you’ll hear nothing but the truth,” he observed.  “Now that things are as they are, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t tell the truth.  The fact is, I’ve nothing to fear.  You can’t give me in charge, for it so happens that I’ve got a power of attorney from these two old chaps inside there to act for them in regard to the money they entrusted me with.  It’s in an inside pocket of that letter-case, and if you look at it, Breton, you’ll see it’s in order.  I’m not even going to dare you to interfere with or destroy it—­you’re a barrister, and you’ll respect the law.  But that’s a fact—­and if anybody’s got a case against anybody, I have against you two for assault and illegal detention.  But I’m not a vindictive man, and——­”