For a moment he looked doubtful as to what he should say, then compromising matters, answered that he would see.
"I know what that means," I said in reply. "Mr. Wetherell is in, but you don't think he'll see me. But he must! I have news for him of the very utmost importance. Will you tell him that?"
He left me and went along the hall and upstairs. Presently he returned, shaking his head.
"I am very sorry, sir, but Mr. Wetherell's answer is, if you have anything to tell him you must put it in writing; he cannot see you."
"But he must! In this case I can accept no refusal. Tell him, will you, that the matter upon which I wish to speak to him has nothing whatsoever to do with the request I made to him this morning. I pledge him my word on that."
Again the butler departed, and once more I was left to cool my heels in the portico. When he returned it was with a smile upon his face. "Mr. Wetherell will be glad if you will step this way, sir."
I followed him along the hall and up the massive stone staircase. Arriving at the top he opened a door on the left-hand side and announced "Mr. Hatteras."
I found Mr. Wetherell seated in a low chair opposite the fire, and from the fact that his right foot was resting on a sort of small trestle, I argued that he was suffering from an attack of his old enemy the gout.
"Be good enough to take a chair, Mr. Hatteras," he said, when the door had been closed. "I must own I am quite at a loss to understand what you can have to tell me of so much importance as to bring you to my house at this time of night."
"I think I shall be able to satisfy you on that score, Mr. Wetherell," I replied, taking the Evening Mercury from my pocket and smoothing it out. "In the first place, will you be good enough to tell me if there is any truth in the inference contained in that paragraph."