"Pardon me," he said. "There has been a mistake. My name is not Christopher Butler."
He smiled in the attorney's face. The little man looked staggered.
"Not Christopher Butler?"
"Certainly not. My name is——"
Harry stopped. Some instinct of caution warned him not to disclose his real name at present.
"My name is neither Butler nor Christopher," he added. "Now, pray let me go."
"Sir, I have my instructions. I must make enquiries. This is unlooked for, most perplexing. Pray excuse me for one moment."
He hurried from the room, leaving the door open. The surly custodian, who had followed the colloquy with evident interest, showed that he was not a bad fellow at bottom.
"I'm right glad, that I am," he said. "'Twas my own thought you was too young to be such a wild dog, or else you was a most desperate wild one."
Harry did not reply. Through the open door he heard loud voices proceeding from a room below. He could not catch the words, but there was something in the tone of the loudest voice that sounded familiar. He had no opportunity of forming a conclusion on the matter, for the speaker's tone was instantly moderated, as though in response to a warning. Immediately afterwards the attorney returned, accompanied by a low-browed fellow in a lackey's livery. The lawyer's smile was as bland as ever as he came into the room.