The door opened, and he stepped in sharply, bathed in perspiration.
"Is your son back?" he said, catching his breath.
"Back, sir? No, sir; it's a mercy if he gets home afore morning, sir; he's noways--"
"Stop your clatter. The girl is in her room. Go and turn the key on her!"
It was at that moment that Mercy, having stood an instant at the bottom of the stairs, had ventured nervously into the bar. Turning about, Hugh Ritson came face to face with her. At the sight of her his crimsoning cheeks became white with wrath.
"Didn't I tell you to be in bed?" he muttered, in a low, hoarse whisper.
"I've only come for ... I came down for ... Hugh, don't be angry with me."
"Come, get back, then; don't stand there. Quick--and mind you lock your door."
"Yes, I'm going. You wouldn't be angry with me, would you?"
"Well, no, perhaps not; only get off--and quick! Do you hear? Why don't you go?"
"I only came down for ... I only came...."
"God! what foolery is this? The girl's fainting. Never mind. Here, landlady, bring a light! Lead the way. She's not too heavy to carry. Upstairs with you. What a snail you are, old woman! Which room?"
Another knock at the outer door. Another and another in rapid succession.
"I'm a-coming, I'm a-coming!" cried the landlady from the floor above.
She bustled down the stairs as fast as her stiff joints would let her, but the knock came again.
The door flew open with pressure from without. Ghastly white, yet dripping with perspiration, his breath coming in short, thick gusts, his neck bare, his shirt-collar torn aside, the lappel of the frieze ulster gone, and the rent of the red flannel lining exposed, Paul Drayton entered. He was sober now.
"I'm here," said Hugh Ritson, walking through the bar and into the bar-room to the right, and candle in hand.
"What are you sniggering and mocking at?" with another oath.
Hugh Ritson dropped his banter, and pointed without a word to the torn ulster and the disordered shirt-collar. Drayton glanced down at his dress in the light of the candle.
"Crossed the fields for shortness, and caught in a bramble-bush," he said, muttering.
"Drop it," said Hugh. "There's no time for it. Look here, Drayton, I'm a downright man. Don't try it on with me. As you say, it won't pass. Shall I tell you where the collar of that coat is now? It's at the police-station."