My Friend Smith Part 90

Instead of going in as usual before me, he waited till I had entered, and then followed me, closing the door behind him.

What on earth does it all mean?

Mr Barnacle sat looking straight before him through his spectacles.

Hawkesbury also sat at the table, twisting a quill pen backwards and forwards with his fingers.

"Hawkesbury," said Mr Merrett, as he re-entered, "you might leave us, please. I will call you when you are wanted."

Hawkesbury, without looking at me, rose to obey. As he reached the door, Mr Merrett stepped after him, and whispered something. At ordinary times I should not have heard what he whispered, or thought of listening for it. But there was such a silence in the room, and my nerves were strung up to such a pitch, that I distinctly caught the words.

What I heard was this--

"Fetch a policeman!"

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

HOW HAWKESBURY AND I SPENT A MORNING IN THE PARTNERS' ROOM.

"Fetch a policeman!" The truth flashed across me as I heard the words.

Instead of standing here an accuser, I stood the accused. Hawkesbury had been before me with a vengeance!

The very shock of the discovery called back the presence of mind, which, on my first summons, I had almost lost. I was determined at least that nothing I should do or say would lend colour to the false charge against me.

"Batchelor," said Mr Merrett, after Hawkesbury had gone and the door was locked--"Batchelor, we have sent for you here under very painful circ.u.mstances. You doubtless know why."

"I must ask you to tell me, sir," I replied, respectfully, but with a tremble in my voice which I would have given anything to conceal.

"I will tell you," said Mr Merrett, "when you have first told Mr Barnacle and me what you have been doing since eight o'clock this morning."

"And let me advise you," said Mr Barnacle, looking up, "to tell the truth."

"I certainly will tell the truth," I began.

What possessed that unlucky voice of mine to quaver in the way it did?

Those few words, I was convinced, would tell more against me than the most circ.u.mstantial narrative. I clutched hold of the back of a chair near me, and made a desperate effort to steady myself as I proceeded. I gave an exact account of everything that had happened since I entered the office that morning, omitting nothing, glossing over nothing, s.h.i.+rking nothing. They both listened attentively, eyeing me keenly all the time, and betraying no sign in their faces whether they believed me or not.

"Then you mean to say," said Mr Merrett, when it was done, "that you were not in this room at all?"

"Yes, I never entered it."

"Were you ever in this room without our knowledge?"

"Yes, a fortnight ago. Smith and I were here early, and hearing a noise inside, we opened the door and came in to see what it was."

"What did you find?"

"Hawkesbury, working at the table where Mr Barnacle is now sitting."

"What occurred?"

I related precisely what had occurred, repeating as nearly as I could the very words that had been used.

There was a silence, and then Mr Merrett, in his most solemn tones, said, "Now, Batchelor, answer this question. You say you were here before any one else arrived this morning?"

"Yes, sir. I had been here about five minutes before Hawkesbury came."

"What were you doing during that time?"

"I was working at my desk."

"You are quite sure?"

"Perfectly," said I, my cheeks burning and my heart swelling within me to be thus spoken to by those whom, with all my faults, I had never once so much as dreamt of deceiving.

"You did not enter this room?"

"No."

Mr Merrett touched his bell, and Hawkesbury appeared. I scarcely wondered he should try to avoid my eye as he stood at the table waiting.

"Hawkesbury, repeat once more, in Batchelor's hearing, what you have already told us."

He kept his head down and his face averted from me as he said, "I arrived here at a quarter to nine this morning, and noticed the door of this room open, and when I came to see who was there I saw Batchelor in the act of shutting the safe. He did not notice me at first, not until he was coming out of the room. I asked him what he was doing here. He seemed very much disconcerted, and said he had been looking for some papers he had left on Mr Barnacle's table the day before. I asked him what he had been doing with the safe, and where he had got the key to open it. He got into a great state, and begged me to say nothing about it. I said I was bound to tell you what I had seen. Then he flew into a rage, and told me he'd serve me out. I told him that wouldn't prevent me doing what was right. Then he left the office, and didn't come back till a quarter to ten."

All this Hawkesbury repeated glibly and hurriedly in a low voice. To me, who stood by and heard it, it was a cowardly lie from beginning to end. But to my employers, I felt, it must sound both businesslike and straightforward; quite as straightforward, I feared, as my own equally exact but tremblingly-spoken story.

"You hear what Hawkesbury says?" said Mr Merrett, turning to me.

I roused myself with an effort, and answered quietly, "Yes, sir."

"What have you to say to it?"

"That it is false from beginning to end."

"You deny, in fact, ever having been at this safe, or in this room?"

"Most certainly."

They all looked grave, and Mr Merrett said, solemnly, "I am sorry to hear you deny it, Batchelor. If you had made a full confession we should have been disposed to deal more leniently with you."

"I never did it--it's all false!" I cried, suddenly losing all self- control. "You know it's false; it's a plot to ruin me and Jack."

"Silence, sir!" said Mr Merrett, sternly.

"I won't be silent," I shouted; "I never deceived you, and yet you go and believe what this miserable--"