“I did not know it was in the city,” he said, however, to himself; and when they landed, and Andrew began to make his way toward Fleet Street, his suspicion was aroused.
“Is the club anywhere near that court where there was the fight?” he said suddenly.
“Eh? Oh yes, very near! This is the part of London where all the wits, beaux, and clever men meet for conversation. You learn more in one night listening than you do in a month’s reading. You’ll like it, I promise you.”
Frank was silent, and in spite of his companion’s promise felt a little doubtful.
“Have you known Mr Selby very long?” he asked.
“Depends upon what you call long.”
“Do you like him?”
“Oh yes, he’s a splendid fellow. So are his friends splendid fellows. You’ll like them too. Thorough gentlemen. Most of them of good birth.”
Frank was silent again; but he was becoming very observant now, as he noticed that, though they were going by a different way, they were tending toward the scene of their adventure, and the fight rose vividly before his imagination. But all was perfectly quiet and orderly around. There were plenty of people about, but all apparently engaged in business matters, though all disposed to turn and look after the well-dressed youths, who seemed foreign to their surroundings.
It was a relief to Frank to find that there were no signs of an idling crowd, and he was congratulating himself upon that fact when, after increasing his pace as if annoyed at being noticed, Andrew said sharply: