“Make every enquiry in your neighbourhood
for an American, John P. Dunster, entrusted
with message of great importance, addressed to
Von Dusenberg, The Hague. Is believed to
have been in railway accident near Wymondham
and to have been taken from inn by young man
in motor-car. Suggest that he is being
improperly detained.”
Hamel crumpled up the telegram and thrust it into his pocket.
“By-the-by,” he asked, as they ascended the steps, “what did you say the name of this poor fellow was who is lying ill up-stairs?”
Gerald hesitated for a moment. Then he answered as though a species of recklessness had seized him.
“He called himself Mr. John P. Dunster.”
CHAPTER XVII
Mr. Fentolin, having succeeded in getting rid of his niece and his somewhat embarrassing guest for at least two hours, was seated in his study, planning out a somewhat strenuous morning, when his privacy was invaded by Doctor Sarson.
“Our guest,” the latter announced, in his usual cold and measured tones, “has sent me to request that you will favour him with an interview.”
Mr. Fentolin laid his pen deliberately down.