CHAPTER XXI. A SHOCK.
It was past midnight when Davenport Donn reached his own house. His return was unexpected, and it was some time before he gained admission. The delay, however, did not excite his impatience; his head was so deeply occupied with cares and thoughts for the future that he was scarcely conscious of the time he had been kept waiting.
Mr. Clowes, hurriedly summoned from his bed, came up full of apologies and excuses.
“We did not expect you till to-morrow, sir, by the late packet,” said he, in some confusion. Dunn made no answer, and the other went on: “Mr. Hankes, too, thought it not improbable you would not be here before Wednesday.”
“When was he here?”
“To-day sir; he left that oak box here this morning, and those letters, sir.”
While Dunn carelessly turned over the superscriptions, among which he found none to interest him, Clowes repeatedly pressed his master to take some supper, or at least a biscuit and a glass of dry sherry.
“Send for Mr. Hankes,” said Dunn, at last, not condescending to notice the entreaties of his butler. “Let him wait for me here when he comes.” And so saying, he took a candle and passed upstairs.
Mr. Clowes was too well acquainted with his master's temper to obtrude unseasonably upon him, so that he glided noiselessly away till such time as he might be wanted.