Mr Merrett touched his bell angrily; but before any one answered it Mr Barnacle had looked up.

The junior partner had been silent all this time, an attentive but impa.s.sive listener to all that had pa.s.sed. Once or twice during Hawkesbury's story he had darted a quick glance at the speaker, and once or twice during my indignant protest his brows had knit, as it seemed, in anger. Mr Barnacle had always had the reputation of being the sterner of the two partners, and now, as he abruptly joined in the conversation, I felt as if it boded very little good for me.

"One moment," said he to Mr Merrett; "there are a few more questions we should ask, I think. Batchelor, you are doing yourself no good by this noise," he added, turning to me.

He was right, and I saw it. I quieted down with an effort, and wondered what was coming next.

Wallop appeared at the door in answer to the bell, and was told he was not wanted. Then Mr Barnacle turned to Hawkesbury and asked, "What brought you here so early as a quarter to nine, Hawkesbury?"

This question surprised Hawkesbury as much as it delighted me. I hardly expected to have a cross-examination in my favour conducted by Mr Barnacle.

"I came to do some work," said Hawkesbury.

"What work?"

"I had several things to catch up."

"What? Invoices, or letters, or accounts, or what?"

"I had the petty-cash to balance."

"That is supposed to be done every day, is it not?"

"Yes; but I had got rather behind."

"How many days behind?" said Mr Barnacle.

"Really I can't quite say," said Hawkesbury, who did not seem used to being driven into a corner. "My journey North threw me out of it."

"Then you have not balanced the petty-cash since before you went North, nearly three weeks ago? Am I to understand that?"

"Yes," said Hawkesbury.

"Is this the first morning you have come here early?"

"No. I have been once or twice."

"This is the only time you found Batchelor here?"

"No; about a fortnight ago he was here with Smith. I found them both in this room."

"What were they doing?"

"They were writing something at the table. They were in a great rage with me when I came in."

"Was the safe open at the time?"

Hawkesbury had got past the stage of sticking at trifles.

"Yes," he said; "when I came in it was. But they made a rush and turned me out of the room and locked the door. And then when I came in again it was shut."

"And did you mention this to anybody?"

"No."

"And why, pray?"

Hawkesbury was taken aback by the sudden question. It was evident he could not make his story square at all four corners.

"I--I--hoped I might be mistaken," said he, uncomfortably. "In fact, I meant to mention the affair, but--but I forgot."

"Oh," said Mr Barnacle, in a way that made the witness writhe.

"I hope you don't doubt my word," said Hawkesbury, attempting to a.s.sume a lofty air of virtuous indignation.

Mr Barnacle vouchsafed no reply.

"What we desire," said Mr Merrett, "is to come at the truth of the matter, and I can only say that it would be much better if the culprit were to make a full confession here now."

He looked hard at me as he spoke, and I did my best to stand the look as an innocent man should.

"A cheque for eight pounds has been missed," continued Mr Merrett, "which was only drawn yesterday, and left in the safe. I ask you, Batchelor, do you know anything of it?"

"No, sir," I replied.

"Do you?" said Mr Barnacle to Hawkesbury.

Hawkesbury flushed as he replied, "I never expected to be asked such a question, Mr Barnacle. I know nothing about it."

Mr Merrett evidently disliked his partner's persistency in putting to Hawkesbury the same questions as had been put to me, but he could hardly complain. He turned to his nephew and said, "Did you fetch a policeman, Hawkesbury?"

"No; I was just going when you called me in here."

Mr Merrett touched his bell, and Crow appeared.

"Is Doubleday in?" asked the senior partner.

"No, sir."

"As soon as he comes in, tell him he is wanted."

Crow took an eyeful of us as we stood there, evidently dying of curiosity to know what it all meant, and then retired.

"You two had better go to your work for the present," said Mr Barnacle; "but understand that you are neither of you at liberty to leave the office. Merrett, I will go down to the bank."

"Do," said Mr Merrett.

And so this first painful interview ended. My feelings on finding myself once more at my desk among my fellow-clerks may be more easily imagined than described.