He nodded. "I've got to go up to the office with my papers. I shall
be back in about half an hour."
I unbuttoned my coat and took out the cable from Messrs. Wilmot and
Drayton.
"Well, if you can manage it," I said, "you might ring up these people
and make an appointment for me. Any time after twelve will do."
He took the wire and stuffed it away in his pocket.
"Leave it to me, my lad," he said. "I'll see they have a red carpet
down for you all right."
I passed on through the jostling crowd of passengers, and, going down
below, proceeded to lend a hand in the various formalities which
attend the arrival of an incoming vessel. This process must have
occupied the best part of an hour, and by the time I was free Ross
had got through his business and returned to the ship. I came across
him at the entrance to the smoking-room, where he was squatting
peacefully on an upturned cabin trunk.
"It's all right about your appointment," he observed. "Half past
twelve's the time, and you can take it from me that you're on a red
hot winner. They nearly fell down when I mentioned your name.
"You're a fine liar, Ross," I said sceptically, "but I'm much obliged
to you all the same."
By eleven o'clock we had got everything cleared up, and, as my
services were no longer required, I went down to my cabin to change
into shore-going kit. On my way I met the stewardess to whom I had
entrusted my note for Miss de Roda. In reply to my enquiry she
informed me that it had been safely delivered, but that the "young
lady" had left the ship without giving her any message or answer.
This, however, was only what I had expected, so I was able to accept
the news with becoming fortitude.
The rain was still falling heavily when I set foot on the dock, but a
pleasant tingle of excitement over my approaching interview lifted me
above the consideration of such trifles. I made my way to the
nearest underground station, and established myself in the corner of
a first-class smoker in company with an excellent cigar on which I
had omitted to pay duty. I felt that on such a critical occasion a
little extravagance was distinctly permissible.
On reaching the Temple I changed into a taxi, and instructed the
driver to take me to the address which Messrs. Wilmot and Drayton had
given me. It was a slow journey, for the Strand and Chancery Lane
were both under repair, as usual, a state of affairs which
necessitated frequent and abrupt stoppages. At last, however, we
managed to worm a passage across Holborn, and a few minutes later we
swung round the corner into the sedate and peaceful atmosphere of
Bedford Row.
No. 117 was the last house in the street--a large, old-fashioned
Georgian building, that seemed to breathe out a reassuring air of
comfortable respectability. I threw away the stump of my cigar, and,
getting out on to the pavement, handed the driver his fare. As I did
so, or rather, as I turned towards the house, I suddenly caught sight
of a man who was leaning up against the railings a few yards farther
on. Under ordinary circumstances I don't suppose I should have given
him a second glance, but there was something in his manner--some
curious suggestion of a furtive interest in my movements--which at
once attracted my attention. Not being handicapped by any natural
shyness, I stopped where I was and had a good square look at him. He
was not what you would call an attractive individual, and any faint
claims to beauty he might once have possessed had been seriously
marred by a broken nose, which even at that distance was distinctly
visible.
As soon as he caught my eye he turned away with an air of badly
assumed indifference, and sauntered off up the street. I watched him
for a second or two, wondering whether I could have been mistaken, or
whether he was really as interested in me as he seemed. I even had
some momentary idea of going after him, and asking him what the devil
he wanted, but since he made no attempt to stop or look back, I came
to the conclusion that he was not worth bothering about. It seemed
wildly improbable that a complete stranger could be hanging around
there with a deliberate purpose of spying on me; and, anyhow, if I
ever ran across him again I should certainly recognise him at once by
his broken nose.
With this reflection I dismissed the incident from my mind, and,
pushing open the door of No. 117, stepped forward into the hall.