Yes, he understood, too, that this was
the end--if all went well! A grim smile came and flickered across Jimmie
Dale's lips. She believed that Hunchback Joe, if caught and trapped,
would squeal to the police. The grim smile deepened. Hunchback Joe
might, or might not, squeal to the police--_but in any case Hunchback
Joe would tell his story_! He, Jimmie Dale, would see to that--whatever
the cost, whatever the consequences, if he had to choke and wring it
from the man's lips. It was a surer way than trusting to the police--it
was the only sure way of reaching the end. The cost! The risk! What did
it matter? What was cost, or risk! Her life was in the balance!
He glanced quickly around him. Would it be as Smarlinghue to-night?
He shook his head. No, if it were really the end, if he won through
to-night, this would be the last time he would ever stand here in the
Sanctuary, and to leave the clothes of Jimmie Dale here, even in so
secure a hiding place as behind that movable section of the
base-board, would impose upon him the _necessity_ of returning--was
but to hamper himself, and, indeed, as likely as not, if hard pressed,
to court disaster.
His glance, strangely whimsical, strangely wistful now, travelled again
over the room.
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