“Show this gentleman the stage door.”
“Yes, sir.”
And with that our clergyman was taken outside by the commissionaire, and they went along the street and then down a dirty narrow court; and when they got to the end of the court there was a dirty old door, and the commissionaire pushed that open and said, “This is the stage-door, sir,” and left our clergyman there.
He told the doctor that it was a narrow passage, with a little room just off it; and in this little room, which was very dingy, was an old gentleman with grey hair, who said, “What do you want, sir?”
“I want a few minutes’ conversation with Mr. Frank Leighton, on a private matter. There is my card.”
The man took the card, and said, “Wait a minute, sir.”
Then he pushed another door open and went through.
Presently he came back again, and said, “Will you take a seat a minute, sir?” And the clergyman went into the dingy little room and sat down.
There was a young lady who had come through from downstairs, and she had evidently just come off the stage, for the doorkeeper said, “Is Mr. Leighton on yet?” “Yes,” she said; “he’s on to the end of the act now.”
Presently there was the report of a pistol, and the clergyman jumped up.