If they had deliberately murdered the chauffeur because
of a refusal to answer, they would equally have done the same to him.
Fool that he had been not to have seen that before! And yet would it
have made any difference? He shook his head. He could not have acted to
any better advantage than he had done. He could not--his lips curled in
grim derision--have been any more convincing.
Convincing! It was all clear enough now! If the chauffeur had suffered
death rather than talk, even admitting the fact that they had more
grounds for suspecting the chauffeur's complicity, would his, Jimmie
Dale's, mere denial, his choice, too, of death, have been any the more
convincing, or have saved his life where it had not saved the other's?
A certain added respect for these men, against whom, until the end now,
his victory or theirs, he realised he was fighting for his life, came
over him as he recognised the touch of a master hand. They did not know
where to find the Tocsin; the package that she had said was vital to
them was still beyond their reach; the chauffeur was dead; and he,
Jimmie Dale, alone remained--a clew that they had still to prove valid
or invalid it was true, but the only clew in their possession. And,
gaining nothing from him by a show of force, to throw him off his guard,
they had let him go--meaning him to believe they were convinced he knew
nothing, and that the episode, the adventure of the night, was, as far
as they were concerned, ended, finished, and done with!
Time passed, a very long time, as he sat there.
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