“Please, sir, it wasn’t a stranger; it was a gentleman the Doctor knew, and who came here to dinner once, and he asked for Mr Morris.”
“Oh!” cried Morris, springing up. “Impossible!”
“Mr Morris, I must ask you to be silent,” said the Colonel sternly.
“But—”
“I will hear anything you have to say, sir, when I have finished with this witness,” said the Colonel firmly.—“Go on, my man. Who was this gentleman?”
“Pro— Professor Barlow, sir. No, sir; Professor Barclay, sir. And he said he was very much disappointed, as he had come down expressly from London to see Mr Morris. He said he couldn’t stop, but he would write a letter if I would give him pens, ink, and paper.”
“Go on,” said the Colonel, as the hearers bent forward with eager interest. “Did you supply him with pens, ink, and paper?”
“Yes, sir. You see, he wasn’t a stranger, but a friend of master’s.”
“And you took him to my study?” said the Doctor almost fiercely.
“I beg your pardon, Doctor,” said the Colonel stiffly.