Gone for the night? and just when he was supposed to have left town? The cabman told to drive to the post-office? This might be for the purpose of despatching a reply. Yet no; the reply would have been written at once and sent by the messenger in the usual way. Unless—unless Sibyl, for some reason, preferred to send the message more privately? Or again, she might not care to let the servant know whither the cab was really to convey her.
Sheer madness, all this. Had not Sibyl fifty legitimate ways of spending a night from home? Yet there was the fact that she had never before done so unexpectedly. Never before——?
He looked at his watch; half-past six. He rang the bell again.
'Has any one called since Mrs. Carnaby left home?'
'Yes, sir; there have been three calls. Mrs. Rolfe——'
'Mrs. Rolfe?'
'Yes, sir. She seemed very disappointed. I told her Mrs. Carnaby would not be back tonight.'
'And the others?'
Two persons of no account. Hugh dismissed them, and the servant, with a wave of the hand.
He felt a faintness such as accompanies extreme hunger, but had no inclination for food. The whisky bottle was a natural resource; a tumbler of right Scotch restored his circulation, and in a few minutes gave him a raging appetite. He could not eat here; but eat he must, and that quickly. Seizing his hat, he ran down the stairs, hailed a hansom, and drove to the nearest restaurant he could think of.