The truth is sometimes a very effective
weapon in the game of bluff, and Desmond determined to employ it.
"I saw someone I didn't want to meet," he replied.
"Ah!" said Mortimer, "who was that, I wonder? The Dyke Inn could
hardly be described as a frequented resort, I imagine!"
The entry of old Martha to change the plates prevented Desmond
from replying. He used the brief respite to review the situation.
He would tell Mortimer the truth. They were man to man now and he
cared nothing even if the other should discover the fraud that
had been practised upon him. Come what might, Mortimer, dead or
alive, should be delivered up to justice that night.
The housekeeper left the room and Desmond spoke.
"I saw an officer I knew in the courtyard," he said.
"Oh, Strangwise, I suppose!" said Mortimer carelessly. "There's
nothing to fear from him, Bellward. He's of the beef and beer and
no brains stamp of British officer. But how do you know
Strangwise?"
"I met him at the Nineveh Hotel in town one night," replied
Desmond. "I don't care about meeting officers, however, and
that's a fact!"
Mortimer looked at him keenly for a brief instant. "What
prudence!" he cried. "Bellward, you are the very model of what a
secret agent should be! This pheasant is delicious!"
He turned the conversation into a different channel but Desmond
could not forget that brief searching look.
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