‘It is very strange—most strange and unaccountable,’ murmured poor Mr Braggett, in reply, as he shuffled out of the doctor’s passage, and took his way back to the office.
Here, however, after an interval of rest and a strong brandy and soda, he managed to pull himself together, and to come to the conclusion that the doctor and Mrs Thompson could not be mistaken, and that, consequently, the clerks must. He did not mention the subject again to them, however; and as the days went on, and nothing more was heard of the mysterious stranger’s visit, Mr Braggett put it altogether out of his mind.
At the end of a fortnight, however, when he was thinking of something totally different, young Hewetson remarked to him, carelessly,—
‘Miss Cray was here again yesterday, sir. She walked in just as your cab had left the door.’
All the horror of his first suspicions returned with double force upon the unhappy man’s mind.
‘Don’t talk nonsense!’ he gasped, angrily, as soon as he could speak. ‘Don’t attempt to play any of your tricks on me, young man, or it will be the worse for you, I can tell you.’
‘Tricks, sir!’ stammered the clerk. ‘I don’t know what you are alluding to. I am only telling you the truth. You have always desired me to be most particular in letting you know the names of the people who call in your absence, and I thought I was only doing my duty in making a point of ascertaining them—’
‘Yes, yes! Hewetson, of course,’ replied Mr Braggett, passing his handkerchief over his brow, ‘and you are quite right in following my directions as closely as possible; only—in this case you are completely mistaken, and it is the second time you have committed the error.’
‘Mistaken!’
‘Yes!—as mistaken as it is possible for a man to be! Miss Cray could not have called at this office yesterday.’