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He jumped into a cab and told the man to follow the victoria, with the result that the latter came to a standstill in front of one of the fashionable West-End drapery establishments.
Chester was close up as the lady alighted, and he sprang out excitedly to go and speak to her.
There was every opportunity, for the carriage drove on with her companion, and she crossed the pavement alone, to walk a few steps alone in front of the great plate-gla.s.s window, gazing carelessly in at the various costumes displayed.
"A woman after all," he said to himself, bitterly annoyed at what he considered her frivolity in thinking of dress at a time when her brother was in all probability suffering still.
"But it is their nature, or the result of their education," he said the next minute, as he went close up behind her, and saw her face reflected clearly in the long series of mirrors at the back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
MR ROACH LOWERS HIMSELF.
"Bah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Chester in his rage and despair, as he swung round and hurried away. "Fool, idiot! No more like her than that miserable flower-seller is. Am I suffering from the shock of the drug they gave me? Well, if I am, she must be found all the same, for I cannot go on like this and live!"
He hurried along, without heeding which way he went, and as if by instinct made for his own house, reached it, started as if in surprise, and then turned to enter, but altered his mind after a pause, and drew the door to, after which he walked swiftly away in the direction of Westminster.
For the meeting had raised thoughts which he felt that he would only obliterate by plunging once more into the mazes of his wild search.
He was not long in reaching the old street which had so taken up his attention before, and he looked long and attentively at the mansion adjoining that occupied by the collector. The contrast was curious, the one with bright, well-curtained windows, the door glistening in its fresh graining and varnish, the other dim, unpainted, looking as if it were quite unoccupied, the very steps as if they had not been cleaned for years.
Chester went and studied a Directory, and with the name Clareborough upon his lips, he determined, after pa.s.sing through the street two or three times, to risk making a call.
"Why should I mind?" he muttered. "If I am wrong, I have only made a mistake."
He walked on till he reached the house, perfectly unconscious that the footman was standing a little back from one of the narrow windows, and after having his attention drawn to the vacillating, rather haggard personage who had been taking so much interest in the house, was ready to look upon him with suspicion.
"Begging letter dodges, or something to sell," said the footman to himself, as the visitors' bell was rung, and after waiting a sufficient time to suggest that he had come from downstairs, the fellow opened the door, to receive Chester with a calm stare.
"Mr Clareborough in?"
"Not at home, sir."
"Mr Robert is, of course?"
"Out of town, sir."
"Well, I must see somebody," said Chester, who had been checked for the moment by the announcement that Mr Robert was out of town, but encouraged by the fact that two shots went home. "Ask Mr Paddy if he will see me."
The nickname made the footman raise his eyebrows, but he replied coolly--
"Not at home, sir."
"Well, then, one of the ladies."
"On the Continent, sir."
"Tut, tut, how tiresome!" cried Chester, impatiently. "Look here, my man; how is Mr Robert?"
"Quite well, thank you, sir," said the man, superciliously.
Chester stared at the man. He had evidently been schooled what to say, and for the moment the visitor hesitated, but recovering his _sang-froid_ the next moment, he said--
"Rather strange that, after so serious an accident."
At that moment the butler came forward from the back of the hall, pulling the door a little more open, and Chester drew a deep breath full of satisfaction, as he caught sight of one of the statues and a chair, on the back of which was emblazoned the same crest as he had seen upon the seal.
"What is it, Orthur," said the butler in a deep, mellow voice suggestive of port wine.
"Gentleman asking to see Mr Robert, sir."
"Yes, I particularly wish to see him," said Chester. "I am the medical man who attended him after his accident."
"I beg pardon, sir."
"I say I am the medical man who attended him after his late accident, and I wish to see my patient again."
The butler glared at the speaker in a heavy, solemn way, and then turned slowly to his subordinate, who raised his eyebrows and drew down the corners of his lips.
"I beg pardon, sir," said the butler, turning his eyes again on the visitor, who was beginning to lose temper. "There is a Mr Robert here--Mr Robert Clareborough. You must mean some other gentleman. Our Mr Robert is quite well, and on the Continent just now."
"Impossible!" cried Chester, angrily. "Look here, my man, take this for yourself and my card in to Mr Robert. Say I beg that he will give me a few minutes' conversation."
The butler glanced at the card and the coin held out, but took neither.
"Beg pardon, sir. I told you that Mr Robert is on the Continent."
"Yes; and I tell you that you are not speaking the truth. Do as I tell you. I will wait till he sees me."
Chester took a couple of steps forward as he spoke, with the intention of entering the hall, but the butler stood firm, and the footman closed up to his side, the pair effectually barring the way. Chester stopped, feeling that he could do no more, for the servants must have been instructed to deny everybody to him. He thought, too, of his position; he had attended his patient and retained the heavy fee paid him, having, had he so wished, been debarred from returning it by his ignorance of the sender's address.
While he was musing the butler said haughtily--
"If you like to leave your card, sir, I'll lay it on the 'all table, and if one of the gentlemen wishes to see you, I daresay he'll write or call."
"No," said Chester, irritably. "Tell Mr Robert that I came, and--no, say nothing; I daresay I can find Mr Robert Clareborough at his club, or I shall meet him somewhere else."
He turned upon his heel, and walked sharply away, satisfied now that he had found the house, and feeling more eager than ever to obtain an interview with his patient, who would, he felt sure, have his sister by his side.
The thought of her position sent the hot blood coursing to the doctor's head, and a chill of horror and anxiety ran through him once more. But he felt that he must wait a little longer and devise some way of obtaining speech with Marion, life being unendurable till he had seen her once again.
"New dodge, Mr Roach, sir?" said the footman, when Chester had disappeared.
"I don't quite know what to make of it, Orthur," replied the butler, solemnly. "It does seem like a new way of raising the wind. It ain't books nor engravings."
"What about being Mr Robert's medical man, though. What do you make of that?"