'
'Early in the morning, I suppose?'
'Yes--pretty early--about two o'clock, I think.'
'And you never saw him after that?'
'Not a sight of him,' replied Barty; 'but, I say, why all this
thusness?'
'I'll tell you after you have answered my questions,' retorted
Slivers, rudely, 'but I'm not asking out of curiosity--its
business.'
Barty thought that Slivers was very peculiar, but determined to
humour him, and to take his leave as early as possible.
'Well, go on,' he said, drinking his whisky, 'I'll answer.'
'Who else was with you and Villiers on that night?' asked Slivers in
a magisterial kind of manner.
'A French fellow called Vandeloup.'
'Vandeloup!' echoed Slivers in surprise; 'oh, indeed! what the devil
was he doing?'
'Enjoying himself,' replied Barty, coolly; 'he came into the theatre
and Villiers introduced him to me; then Mr Wopples asked us all to
supper.'
'You went, of course?'
'Rather, old chap; what do you take us for?'--this from Barty, with
a knowing wink.
'What time did Vandeloup leave?' asked Slivers, not paying any
attention to Barty's pantomime.
'About twenty minutes to twelve.'
'Oh! I suppose that was because he had to drive out to the
Pactolus?'
'Not such a fool, dear boy; he stayed all night in town.'
'Oh!' ejaculated Slivers, in an excited manner, drumming on the
table with his fingers, 'where did he stay?'
'At the Wattle Tree Hotel.
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