“I'll stop this system of substitutes!” cried the voice. “Send him in here.”
“Go in there,” said the youth, with a gesture of his thumb, and his face at the same time wore an expression which said as plain as any words could have spoken, “And you 'll see how you like it.”
As Tony entered, he found himself standing face to face to the awful official, Mr. Brand, the same who had reported to the Minister his intended assault upon Willis, the porter. “Aw! what's all this about?” said Mr. Brand, pompously. “You are Mr.—Mr.—”
“Mr. Butler,” said Tony, quietly, but with an air of determination.
“And instead of reporting yourself, you come here to say that you have exchanged with Poynder.”
“I never heard of Poynder till three minutes ago.”
“You want, however, to take his journey, sir. You call yourself first for Madrid?”
“I do nothing of the kind. I have come here because I got a telegram two days ago. I know nothing of Poynder, and just as little about Madrid.”
“Oh—aw! you're Butler! I remember all about you now; there is such a swarm of extras appointed, that it's impossible to remember names or faces. You 're the young gentleman who—who—yes, yes, I remember it all; but have you passed the civil-service examiners?”
“No; I was preparing for the examination when I received that message, and came off 'at once.”