“Yes; you have good reason for doubting me, but I swear to you that you may trust me.”
At that moment steps were heard upon the stairs, almost inaudible; but whoever it was whistled some melody, and before Stratton could stay him, Guest threw open the door, and called to the whistler to come back.
“Want me, sir?” said a telegraph boy, appearing in the opening.
“Yes,” said Guest, giving the boy sixpence; “ask the woman at the lodge to come up here directly.”
“All right, sir.”
Guest returned to his seat, and saw that Stratton’s face was averted and his eyes closed.
“Finds he must give way,” said the young barrister to himself; and once more there was silence, till Mrs Brade’s knock was heard.
Guest admitted her, and cut short a string of wondering exclamations by giving her his orders.
“Oh, certainly, sir,” she cried; “but I thought—”
“Yes, of course you did, my dear madam, but unfortunately Mr Stratton was suddenly taken ill.”