"Is your guardian in?" I inquired.
"No," said Carton.
What should I say next? It would have been folly to make Richard Carton a participant in the strange revelations which were directing my proceedings.
"Can you tell me," I asked, "where Athelstan Road is?"
"It is in Margate," he replied, in a tone of surprise, "and the number is 28."
It was my turn now to exhibit surprise. "No. 28!" I exclaimed. "Who lives there?"
"I don't know. Mrs. Dowsett and Letitia went to Margate by an early train on Saturday morning, before I was awake, and my guardian has gone there to see them. I should have proposed to go with him had it not been for my determination not to leave London till this dreadful mystery was cleared up; and then there was the promise you made me give you last night, that I should remain here all the day till you came to see me."
"When did your guardian go to Margate?" I asked.
"He has gone from Victoria," replied Carton, glancing at a marble clock on the mantelshelf, "by the Granville train. It starts at fifteen minutes past three."
I also glanced at the clock. It was just half-past three, a quarter of an hour past the time!