It sounded like the raving of a dying man, and T. B. shook his head as, in the company of Van Ingen, he walked back to his chambers in the early hours of the morning.
Since the night of the assault, the young man had remained as Smith's guest, at the latter's express command.
"Not that I believe you stand in immediate danger of having your head broken again by those miscreants," he said laughingly the next morning, "or that I could protect you if you did! But since you are in on this thing, and the enemy have got wind of it, it is as well to join forces. You can run errands, type my notes, and investigate obscure clues--in short, become a useful other self to me. In that way I double my efficiency, and can be in two places at once!"
And so Van Ingen, nothing loath, had sent for a few necessaries, and had taken up quarters with the detective.
At the suggestion of the latter, he had not acquainted Doris with his mishap, the injuries from which were, indeed, slight enough, consisting only of a bruise, the size of a walnut on the right side of his head, and an accompanying dizziness when, the next morning, he attempted to raise his head from the pillow.
He had scrawled a line to Doris therefore, reporting himself, per agreement, and inviting himself to tea, to discuss an important personal matter, the next afternoon at five.
To this he had received, late the same day, posted from Folkestone, the following reply:
"Owing to a sudden change of plans, we start for the Continent to-night, and, 'to-morrow at five,' I shall be having my tea with Aunty in Paris--and thinking of you!
"We remain there only for a few days, then on to the Riviera, and eventually cross into Spain.
"I had something to ask you last night, which escaped me in the pain of bidding you farewell--something you may do for me, which will add to the great debt of gratitude I already owe you--and crown it all! Abandon this investigation! By our dear friendship of many years, I ask it,--by the love which you profess for me. It will involve you in frightful consequences of which I do not dare to speak. Your bare connection with it fills me with anguish--I cannot sleep! ... Thank you for the report of your health. I am nervous and unstrung these days, and filled with imaginary terrors.