Stella did not speak. The chill which had fallen on her as she alighted seemed to grow keener.
Suddenly the man stopped before a door, the name on which had been covered over with a sheet of paper.
Could they have seen through it, and read the name of Jasper Adelstone, there would have been time to draw back, but unsuspectingly they followed the man in, the door closed, and unseen by them, was locked.
"This way, sir," said Scrivell, and he opened the inner door and ushered them in.
"If you'll take a seat for a moment, sir," he said, putting two chairs forward, and addressing Frank, "I will tell him you have arrived," and he went out.
Stella sat down, but Frank went to the window and looked out, then he came back to her restlessly and excitedly.
"I wonder where he is—why he does not come?" he said, impatiently.
Stella looked up; her lips were trembling.
"There, don't look like that!" he exclaimed, with a smile. "It is all right!"
As he spoke he drew near the table aimlessly, and as aimlessly glanced at the piles of papers with which it was strewn.