"Don't you bother about my personal affairs, Lionel. Just keep your own end up, and breathe the bit of fresh air now while you can before you go back to your own quarters. I don't like you getting up through that trap-door on to the roof. Somebody might see you one night."
"My quarters! My prison, you mean!" he retorted bitterly.
"Prison? Fool, what are you saying? Your room is surely comfortable, and I do my best for you. If you want to get out--do so. And you'll be arrested by the first police constable who comes along."
"But it is prison!" replied the mysterious figure in a voice asking for pity. "Prison!"
"Well--take your liberty, and take the consequences," the other responded roughly.
"Look what I do! I'm always working for you--always!"
"Very well! Give it up, and I'll fling you out into the gutter--now--just as you are! I shan't suffer," he added, "but you will! By gad you will!"
The man from upstairs cringed and drew his breath.
"No! No! Wisden! No!--don't do that! I'll do all you ask--all! Alice--my dear Alice--always said you were my best friend--my very best friend."
"And so I am, my dear fellow!" exclaimed Boyne. "I've done my best for you all along--all along."
"Look!" cried the lonely man who lived upstairs, and whose movements were never heard by deaf old Mrs. Felmore. "What's that?"
And with a shriek of horror he pointed to a corner of the dingy room.
"What? I don't see anything!" was Boyne's reply. "You've got one of those spooky fits of yours coming on again. You'd better go back."
"I don't want to go back," whined the person whose Christian name was Lionel. "Surely you won't send me back, Wisden?"
"Yes; for your own sake you must lie low. Try to understand what I say. We are mutually interested in each other. It is to the advantage of both that you should remain here. I am not your jailer, recollect. If you wish, you can walk out now. But I warn you that you will walk straight into the hangman's noose. Scotland Yard and the Old Bailey are awaiting you, and are ready, never fear."
"But where's Alice?" asked the squeaky voice.
"Are you sure? How and where did she die?"
"In Avignon. In a house close behind the Pope's Palace. Surely you remember? You were there."