He gave a sort of chuckle when he said this, and it emboldened me to come to grips with him—­as far as words went.

“Then what harm can I do you, Mr. Hollins?” I asked.  “You’re not in any danger that I know of.”

He looked at me as if wondering whether I wasn’t trying a joke on him, and after staring a while he shook his head.

“I’m leaving this part—­finally,” he answered.  “That’s Sir Gilbert’s brand-new car that’s all ready for me down the stairs; and as I say, whether it’s storm or no storm, I must be away.  And there’s just two things I can do, Moneylaws—­I can lay you out on the floor here, with your brains running over your face, or I can—­trust to your honour!”

We looked at each other for a full minute in silence—­our eyes meeting in the queer, bluish light of the electric pocket-lamp which he had set on the table before us.  Between us, too, was that revolver—­always pointing at me out of its one black eye.

“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Hollins,” said I at length, “I’d prefer you to trust to my honour.  Whatever quality my brains may have, I’d rather they were used than misused in the way you’re suggesting!  If it’s just this—­that you want me to hold my tongue—­”

“I’ll make a bargain with you,” he broke in on me.  “You’d be fine and glad to see your sweetheart, Moneylaws, and assure yourself that she’s come to no harm, and is safe and well?”

“Aye!  I would that!” I exclaimed.  “Give me the chance, Mr. Hollins!”

“Then give me your word that whatever happens, whatever comes, you’ll not mention to the police that you’ve seen me tonight, and that whenever you’re questioned you’ll know nothing about me!” he said eagerly.  “Twelve hours’ start—­aye, six!—­means safety to me, Moneylaws.  Will you keep silence?”

“Where’s Miss Dunlop?” asked I.

“You can be with her in three minutes,” he answered, “if you’ll give me your word—­and you’re a truthful lad, I think—­that you’ll both bide where you are till morning, and that after that you’ll keep your tongue quiet.  Will you do that?”

“She’s close by?” I demanded.

“Over our heads,” he said calmly.  “And you’ve only to say the word—­”

“It’s said, Mr. Hollins!” I exclaimed.  “Go your ways!  I’ll never breathe a syllable of it to a soul!  Neither in six, nor twelve, nor a thousand hours!—­your secret’s safe enough with me—­so long as you keep your word about her—­and just now!”

He drew his free hand off the table, still watching me, and still keeping up the revolver, and from a drawer in the table between us pulled out a key and pushed it over.

“There’s a door behind you in yon corner,” he said.  “And you’ll find a lantern at its foot—­you’ve matches on you, no doubt.  And beyond the door there’s another stair that leads up to the turret, and you’ll find her there—­and safe—­and so—­go your ways, now, Moneylaws, and I’ll go mine!”